The Price We Pay
by Laurel1234
Summary: It felt as if he'd seen right through her, but, of course that was impossible. He tilted her chin up again, as he bent down agonizingly slow, Neal leaned forward in response. "Do you think I am a fool?" He whispered, his breath tickling her ear. It took Neal a full beat before she realized her plan had backfired. Slowburn Thranduil/OC. More info inside. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1 EDITED

**A/N: Heyyy! Just had this idea floating around in my head for awhile and i thought it would be fun to try something a little different! I probably shouldn't, as I'm still finishing my other story but, well, I couldn't resist! **

**First off, I'm a sucker for those girl in ME, and ME characters in our world stories, always have been, always will be and this is one of those stories, so you have been warned.**

**Secondly, these first few chapters Neal is going to have a very different view of Thranduil, so her assessment will be harsher and they are not going to be overly fond of one another. Give her some time to go, she'll come around ;)**

**Ok! If anyone is still left reading this, please enjoy and let me know what you think! I'm pretty excited to write this and to explore Thranduil's character, and the interactions between the two. I'm interested to hear what you all think.**

* * *

"Is that her?"

"Yes, in all her glory."

"Oh, she's beautiful." Neal whispered, awestruck. "I have a client who would pay a _lot_ of money for her, Thomas."

Thomas McDermott indignantly snatched the photograph out of the woman's hand, putting it back in the folder he kept for his field notes.

"Neal, I didn't show it to you to sell her! She's a relic! She belongs in a museum, not in the pool house of one of your over-hyped, spoiled rich clients!" Neal simply rolled her eyes and flipped her dark hair over her shoulder.

"Anything can be sold, for the right price." She said, giving him a playful smile as she flipped the folder back open to gaze at his photograph of the statue in question. She really was exquisite, she thought, fingers lightly tracing the picture as she flipped to another photograph, this one featuring a close up of the woman's likeness forever captured in the stone. Her cheek had been rubbed smooth, possibly from years of people touching it, out of fondness or was it luck they believed in? She didn't know why, but the statue made Neal feel sad…like whoever had carved it had given up hope, and tried to preserve it all in this statue. "But you're right…not this one."

The two of them studied the photographs for a few moments longer, in the reverential silence they felt was owed her. She was regal, in her own right, a carved circlet placed atop her head, under a covering that fell in waves over her figure. But if she was royalty wouldn't there be more fanfare about her, Neal wondered, flipping back to the first photo, before they had removed all of the dirt and vines away from the statue.

"We think this was a memorial, to honor her death." Thomas explained, answering her unspoken question and flipping to a photo of several other busts and statues all looking livelier and more jubilant than the first. "All the others don't wear a shroud like this, so we can only assume it's's the artists way of showing she died, like a mourning veil. You see? Furthermore, we found her miles away from the others, so either they simply kept the dead away from the main living space or the memory was too painful to be kept in plain sight."

"And you still don't know who she is?" Neal asked quietly. There was something striking about it this photograph, a melancholy appeal and Neal found her eyes drifting to the photograph more and more. "Or who could have lived here? It's kind of sad someone can be lost like that don't you think?"

"Yeah, it is sad, no, we haven't found anything." Thomas answered, running his hands through his unkempt hair in frustration. "We've been trying to dig up some sort of clue as to who they are…for a while we thought it could be anglo-saxon but the carbon dating on some of the pieces suggests its much older."

"Yeah, but aren't there books, written history, something to give you a clue? I find it hard to believe an entire team of archaeologists found an unground city that has been more or less perfectly preserved with little to nothing to show for it." She asked, leaning against the man's desk and frowning down at him in unbelief.

Thomas rolled his eyes and slumped further back into his chair, shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh, we've found books, but they don't do us any good if we can't translate them, Neal. And trust me, it's not perfectly preserved, not even close."

"What do you mean you can't translate them? What language is it, I'll call some friends and see if we can have a translator over here tonight." She suggested, digging through her purse to find her phone and do just that.

"We don't know." Came the man's growled out reply. "When no one recognized it right off the bat we did a search in the database and nothing came up, and there haven't been any findings like it. Evidently, it's a completely unknown language."

"Well that is exciting! What a discovery!"

"Yes, it would be, if the museum was just as excited about it as we were. But me and the team haven't been able to recover anything linking these people to a specific date in history, so we can't even begin to pinpoint who they _might_ be, we've found no bodies, no burial sites, no way to decode their language, nothing. We've been here for two months and all we have are assumptions and we're running out of money, fast. At this rate, if we don't raise enough money at tonight's Gala I'm screwed."

"Well it's a good thing I've invited all of my over-hyped spoiled rich clients then, isn't in?" Neal asked, a satisfied smirk on her lips. She watched his shoulders sag in relief as he gave her a sheepish grin.

"It really is Neal. I have to admit, I thought this whole Gala auction thing was a little much, and to have it in the city, after we just found it? Ludicris! But you've been able to pull this together while maintaining the integrity of the site. You've really saved my ass."

Neal shrugged nonchalantly, though secretly she had been pleased by the praise and really hoped this event would go off without a hitch. She'd coordinated hundreds of events for all types of people, in all sorts of locations and Neal Carter had made quite a name for herself in the industry, but this event was personal to her.

Thomas had always held a special place in her heart, and while it hadn't worked out between them, she knew he was one of the good ones. He was one of the most earnest, hardworking and passionate man she'd ever known so for him to call her and ask her to host a fundraising event in the hopes of prolonging his research how could she say no? And with such an interesting location as this was, an underground city deep in the forest, with a ballroom that could easily hold a thousand people, Neal knew they had told hold it there. Plus the photographs of the event were sure to pull in a ton of clients for her! It was a win win

The first time she'd gone out with him to see the site, to hear how and what they found there, Neal could already envision star shaped lights strung up in the cavernous ceiling, a live orchestra, dancing, gourmet food and even a horse and carriage to take the guests to and from the location and back to their cars and limos at the end of the evening.

Everything was coming together, just as she'd hoped and after making a few calls to her clients and more elite contacts they'd sold out of tickets for the event within two days! She'd even convinced Thomas to place some of the artifact in glass display boxes around the room so that they could be viewed by their guests. Surely, they'd want to know exactly what their money was going toward, right? She'd been able to procure quite a nice array of items for the auction and if enough people showed interest then she was more than confident they'd be able to raise the necessary fund for Thomas and his team to continue on with their research.

"Well don't thank me yet, we still have to pay the vendors and get people to buy the auctioned items." She said, smoothing her black pencil skirt and hoisting herself off of his desk.

"No, I have to thank you." The man said earnestly, standing to his feet. His brown eyes bored into her own and Neal had to look away to escape the intensity of them. She swallowed, giving him another smile as she waved him away. "No really, how could I ever repay you for everything you've done? You've worked so hard putting all of this together for me, and you won't let me pay you, the least I can do is thank you, and that's not nearly enough, I know it's not."

"Well, obviously I don't mind doing it, Thomas. You know what you mean to me" Neal said lightly, leaning forward to smooth the lapel on his rumpled sport coat, frowning a bit at the dried food on the edge, which she scraped off quickly with a manicured nail.

"Neal…" He started quietly, eyes softening as he struggled to start a conversation that they'd had countless times before.

"And I couldn't let you go on with your barbeque idea, that would have been a nightmare!" She rushed, getting the words out before the conversation took its predestined turn. She gave the sport coat a satisfied pat, realizing it was as smooth as it was going to get, and stepped back, silently critiquing the outfit and praying he would just put on the Ralph Lauren suit she'd sent him. "But, if you insist on making it up to me, there is one way…"

"What?" He asked suspiciously, the sly smile creeping onto her face making him regret even asking. He should have just said thank you and let it be!

"The necklace."

"Neal!"

"I want to wear it tonight, for the Gala."

"No."

"Just _tonight_ and I'll return it in the morning."

"Neal, I can't let you wear an artifact. Do you have any idea what it's worth?"

"Do you?" She countered, crossing her arms and resisting the urge to click her heel against the floor of his trailer office. The man flustered, his eyes lilting over her for the briefest moment.

"N-not yet, but, hell, have you looked at it? It's got to be worth a fortune!"

"I know, which is why it would look stunning on me, don't you think?"

"No. I mean yes it would, but no!"

"Don't get upset with me, you did ask!" Neal argued,her pride taking a bit of a dip as she grabbed her purse.

"Because I thought you'd ask for something more reasonable. Like a yacht! Or keys to the city!"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic Thomas!" She chided, irritably digging through her purse for her car keys. "You asked how you could repay me and I told you. Why wouldn't I say exactly what I wanted?" She asked, the hidden meaning in her tone making him look away, and carefully put the photos back in their assigned folder.

"And Neal Carter always gets what she wants." He whispered, just low enough that she had missed it.

"Forget it, I was joking anyway. Obviously, I am not expecting anything." She relented, grabbing the keys out of her bag and holding them in her hands as she stood there for longer than she should have. "I did it because I believe in you, and what you're doing here. I think it's amazing…you've found something that has been lost for so long we can't even put a name on it…but that's what you're doing. You're giving these people, whoever they are, their name back…and you can't stop that now, not after everything, it's too important. They can't be lost again… _she_ can't be lost again." Neal said, nodding to the photograph of the mysterious sculpted woman.

No one said anything as they remembered just exactly what they were here for and after several tense moments Neal walked forward and kissed his cheek, the familiar sensation reminding him of a time not so long ago when he'd had more than just the memory of her lips on his. As she walked toward the door, the click of her heels echoed his heartbeat, and in a moment of what can only be described as complete and utter lunacy Thomas heaved a relenting sigh.

"Wait." He called, hating himself as he grabbed his keys and unlocked the safe underneath his desk. He pulled out the box, sliding it across his desk toward her. "You weren't joking…and it would look beautiful on you."

Neal opened the box and gasped at the beauty of the necklace that was far more beautiful in person than the pictures he'd shown her. The white gems glinted like starlight along the silver strands that held them in place, and she couldn't help but imagine just how lovely they'd look with the black ball gown she bought for tonight...but…

"Thomas, I couldn't. Not if you really don't want me to. Really, I'm sorry for all the fuss." She said, closing the lid soundly and sliding it back to him. The man rolled his eyes and slid the box back to her, nodding satisfactorily as she caught it.

"Yes, you can, and you will." He said, turning from her and moving to sit back behind his desk. "Just for tonight and you will give them back in the morning, understood? I don't want a repeat of Ocean's 8, we don't have that kind of insurance."

Neal laughed and grabbed the box before she or he changed their mind, barely restraining her excitement.

"Oh, you, you are a stud, do you know that? A gift giving, superhero of a man." She exclaimed, to the seemingly unaffected man.

"Whatever you say, but this makes us even. And please, for the love of God, be careful with it ok?"

"Oh, we are _so_ even. I'll see you tonight! I can't wait, wear the suit I sent please!" She shouted, heading out the door excitedly. "I've got to go, I have a hair appointment and then I've got to change for tonight but I'll meet you at the front, right? I've put a sign at the front of the forest so the guests will know to wait for the carriage. Don't be late, you need to give your presentation about what you and you're team are trying to accomplish. That's the most important part! It makes people feel like they can be a part of history."

"I'm not gonna be late! When have I been late?"

"Since I've known you you." Neal tutted. "Where the suit." She called rushing out the door

"Yeah, yeah, I'll wear the suit. Go get your hair done, you look awful." He teased, delighting in the sound of her laughter long after she had left him alone in his office, with his artifacts and words left unsaid.

* * *

"Yes, so happy you could come Angelique!" Neal gushed, a fake smiled plastered on her face as she greeted the guest and ignored her assistant doing her best to stifle a laugh.

"Of course, my husband and I would not miss such a…quaint event." The woman replied, returning the insincere smile. "My husband has always taken a special interest in historical mysteries…the more outrageous the better. This one seems to be of a particular interest to him, probably because I warned him it could be a scam." Angelique teased, the very obvious dig making Neal grind her teeth.

"Oh, I assure you this isn't a scam, though it is pretty remarkable." She soothed, "This team has worked tirelessly to find the artifacts you see here on display now, along with many other items that will be unveiled after they've finished their work. This necklace I'm wearing is just one of the many items that are sure to stir up quite the buzz and I promise you, you and your husband will be most thankful he was here to contribute to one of the greatest historical finds this side of the globe."

Angelique's lips tightened ever so subtly as she took in the necklace on Neal's neck, glittering in the candlelight. Neal couldn't help the smug smile the tugged at her mouth as she lifted her neck to show it off.

"Yes, it is rather lovely…but they are not diamonds, so there is no telling what they are worth." The woman replied and Neal smiled widely, and leaned in, beckoning the woman to do the same.

"No, you're right they're not diamonds," Neal whispered, "they're even better. Now, please do enjoy the rest of the evening! Auction starts in an hour!"

Angelique lifted the hem of her gown, and slid past Neal without sparing a second glance.

"Ha!" She cackled to herself under the reproachful eye of her assistant, Helen.

"You shouldn't egg her on Ms. Carter." Helen chided, tucking her clipboard under her arm. "We need her to bid, as much as she can. Her husbands a Baron!"

"Yea I know," Neal agreed, grabbing a glass of champagne of the tray being passed around, and handing one to Helen. "She's just such a nasty thing, she always has been, and why? What for? Your husbands a baron and suddenly you're better than everyone else?"

"You know she does it to get a rise out of you? She'll be calling you to coordinate her next charity auction, mark my words! And you won't want to be turning down her buisness either."

"She's just...just the _worst! _Deserves a good dose of her own medicine now and then. _Quaint. _This event is a hell of a lot more than _quaint._ "

"Well thank the good Lord we don't all get what we deserve." Helen added, taking a sip of her drink. "Ignore her and enjoy your night! It's going very well, you should take the time to enjoy it while you have the time!"

"Oh, you're right! You're always right." Neal relented with a roll of her eyes, and took a heavy swing of her drink before correcting herself. "Give her the table up at the front, by the band. That will soften her up. Oh, and have you seen Thomas? He was supposed to be here two hours ago for his presentation. He knows this."

"No, I haven't seen him all day, Ms. Carter. Although it's my guess he'll be down that hall to make sure guests don't wander off where they're not supposed to." Neal placed the empty drink glass on an empty tray and thanked Helen before heading off to track him down. She waved and smiled to various guests, making short small talk as she passed through the throngs of people, asking each one to bid and allowing them a chance to get a look at the necklace. Occasionally she was stopped to handle some sort of crisis or another, but her main mission was to find Thomas.

"Where in the world is that man?" She muttered to herself after every accessible corner of the public area had been checked and still no sign of him

She checked her phone once more, for good measure but just as last time, she had no service.

_Typical_. She thought heading out of the ballroom and toward the hall where she guessed Thomas might be hiding out. _I guess these ancient people couldn't have anticipated the need for reliable cell service back then._ Neal stepped back behind the velvet rope, marking off the corridor that had yet to be cleared by Thomas and his team, and scurried down the hall calling for him.

Yes, if Thomas was anywhere in this place, it would be down here protecting the hall from all the big bad dinner guests and dirtying up his suit as he tried to get in more work.

"You're not getting off that easy Thomas! If I have to meet and greet so do you! This is for _your_ benefit after all!" She grumbled, hiking up the hem of her dress and heading forward, the click of her heels echoing against the cavern walls. Neal hadn't been walking long when it had grown too dark to continue on, the lights the Gala provided unable to pierce the darkness of this hall.

"Thomas?" She called once more, waiting for his familiar grumble to call back in response, but she heard nothing except the orchestra playing for the guests, and the happy chatter that accompanied it. A small seed of worry began to grow in the pit of her stomach as she waited. This wasn't like him. Sure he was late, but two hours? Not likely. If he said he would be somewhere, he'd be there. So where was he?

Neal stared hard into the dim waiting for some clue that he was down there as her concern mounted. Where could he be? Was he even down there or could be at the party now? But, if he was further in the cave and he wasn't responding he was either too far to hear her or worse…

"Thomas, if you are down there say something! You need to give this speech and I'm not doing it for you!" She growled, her voice cracking ever so slightly with worry. "If you're doing this on purpose just know that we will not be even anymore! But, if you're hurt…let me know…somehow."

She listened to her voice echoing back to her, suddenly feeling stupid as she heard herself.

_He's fine, he's probably in the bathroom or something. You should head back. You shouldn't be down here you'll get everyone in trouble or ruin the integrity of the site or something._

Just as she began to turn around, a light caught her eye, flickering further down the hall and a sigh of relief left her lips.

"There he is." She muttered, grabbing her cellphone and using the flashlight to guide her steps. She wasn't going to risk a broken ankle, not tonight when she looked this good! Determinedly she followed the light, thinking of all the ways Thomas would pay her back for the inconvenience as she rounded a corner. "Thomas you really ought to let someone know-"

No sooner had the words left her mouth than the light extinguished, snuffed out by a sharp wind that cut through the cavern with a howl so worrisome had Neale believed in ghosts she would have sworn there was one here with her now.

The hairs on the back of her neck raised as she stood there in the dark, with nothing but her cellphone flashlight to light the way, and she knew she had made a terrible mistake. She needed to head back, now! If Thomas still couldn't be found they'd send a search party after them but she certainly couldn't do it by herself! And she certainly couldn't go around personifying wind!

Without a word or second thought Neale hurried along as fast as was able until, making a left and then a right. Or had she made a right than a left? She didn't remember making any turns at all, hadn't it just been a straight shot through the cavern? No, she was going the right way, she had to be right?

She could no longer hear the orchestra, or the chatter of party guests, just the oddly comforting sound of dripping water that seemed to make its home in every cave.

This wasn't the best situation, but surely, she'd just taken a wrong turn, somewhere right? Maybe it would lead her right back out to the party, like one giant circle.

Another flash of light, a beacon in this maze light up the hall, and she followed it like a moth to a flame, stumbling over her dress to find its source.

"Hey! Hey, can you-"

Just as before, the moment she spoke the light was doused, as if it had never been there at all. What was happening? There shouldn't be anyone else here, right? Slowly, Neal bent down to take off her heels. She couldn't run in heels and a warning in the back of her mind was telling her she'd need to run soon.

The moment her bare feet touched the cold, damp cavern floor, she began to realize the magnitude of the situation she was in. She didn't want to admit it but she couldn't ignore it any longer.

She was lost…and she wasn't alone.

The alert on her phone, signaling a dying battery left Neale with only two options. She could continue going the way she was going or, she could turn back around and try to retrace her steps. The problem was…she wasn't quite sure what those steps were.

_How the hell did you get in this mess, Neal, you big idiot! You should have been at the party, drinking champagne and rubbing its success in Angelique's face!_

Another burst of light flickered, bending like torchlight against the hall and Neal plunged deeper down the hall, chest heaving with effort as she raced forward to reach it.

"Help! Please, just help me! No, no, no, no!" She screamed in frustration as the light was doused just as before, but this time she was without any additional light. Her phone was dead, laying in her hands uselessly she fought the urge to chuck it against the wall. She slammed her fist against the wall, cursing loudly.

This was not good.

Her breath came out in short pants as she tried to keep her imagination from running wild. There was nothing there. Just her and the dark…no mystery light, nothing, maybe she had just had more champagne then she realized.

Yes, that must have been it. Too much champagne and an odd reflection of her cell phone light that had caused the illusion, but now there would be no more of that since her phone was dead.

There would be no more light at all.

"Stop it." She whispered to herself. She was being silly! They had to know she was gone by now, she was the event coordinator and basically the host! They'd be looking for her! They had to be.

Yes, she was sure that any moment she'd hear the search party calling her name and she'd be whisked back to safety, regaling her guests with the details of her harrowing journey. So, she would just sit and wait. And that was precisely what she did.

She waited.

And waited.

And waited still.

It felt like hours had passed, but there alone, in the dark it could have only been a few minutes, even still Neal had begun to panic. So, it was only natural that as she sat there, anxiously fiddling with the necklace, that she clambered to her feet as soon as she saw the curious flash of firelight yet again, ready to chase after it. This time, however, something stopped her and she sank back to the ground.

To Neal, it seemed that every time she chased after that light she went deeper and deeper into the cavern only to have it disappear the moment she spoke or got too close. She couldn't risk getting even more lost! No, help was coming. She needed to just stay put and wait.

"Screw you." She muttered, waiting for the light to extinguish.

It didn't.

It continued to flicker, casting strange bent shadows against the wall, beckoning her to come see what relief it held, but still she wouldn't go.

"I'm not falling for it!" She shouted, louder this time just so she knew it got the message. Still the light shone and suddenly she could hear the sound of a party! Hope soared in her chest as she stood to her feet, the music playing in time with each relieved breath. It didn't sound like the music she had asked the orchestra to play, but who cared? Let them play Bohemian Rhapsody for all she cared, she just wanted to get out of here!

Her face hurt from smiling so wide, and her stomach growled in response to the smell of food wafting through the air, smelling better than what she had expected lobster puffs and crudités to smell but, what the hell! She hadn't eaten all day trying to fit into this dress and she would have eaten her shoe if she'd be stuck down here any longer!

"_Neal!"_

She heard her name called from behind her.

"I'm here! Yes, I'm right here, I'm coming!" She shouted in response.

The lights dimmed just as before, once again plunging her into darkness but she didn't care. She was saved! Quickly, she spun around, trying to yank her heels back on before they found her looking like such a mess.

"_Neal! Where are you?"_

"I'm here!" She shouted, again elation overwhelming her. "Hey! Over he-"

"How did you get through here?" A voice called, a sharp as the sword held to her throat. Neal could move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think! This wasn't happening! The owner of that voice moved closer, stepping in front of her, but Neal could barely see him, all she saw was an actual sword pointed at her, and piercing blue eyes. "I will once more, _how_ did you get in here? This entrance is not well known and heavily guarded. One as clamoring as yourself would surely have drawn their attention would you not think?"

"I-i…" Neal stammered. Her mouth had gone dry, and the room began to spin. She reached for the wall to steady herself, but nearly fell down on her face before the man caught her. Yes, she was absolutely going to pass out, she was sure of it, she realized as the man's eyes traveled down to where the necklace hung from her throat.

The air around her felt like it had gone colder as the man's face hardened. Neal was frozen in place, locked in his grip and stammering like a fool. She had to get out of here! She had to scream, run, do something!

"Where did you get this?" He asked, the acid in his voice shaking Neal out of her paralysis.

"It's mine. Let go of me!" She shouted, trying to push herself away but his grip only tightened.

"_Yours?!_ That necklace was never meant for you!" He seethed, "Where did you get it? Did the Dwarves sell it to you? Or did you take it?"

"I didn't take anything! What Dwarves, get off of me! Help! Help me! Thomas!"

"You think you could steal from me and then sneak into my home? To what, to mock me?" With an amount of strength Neal had no idea she had, she shoved the man, removing herself from his grasp and took off running full tilt down the pathway. He was behind her she knew it and quickly catching up to her.

Neal grasped at her neck, hoping to hide the necklace before her caught her but it was gone! Had it fallen off somewhere? Where was it? She couldn't leave without that necklace, Thomas would never forgive her!

That moment's hesitation was all it took for the man to catch her again, and Neal pushed and kicked and shouted but to no avail!

"Help me! Help! Thomas!" Neal screeched, praying her saviors would arrive before it was too late. His silver hair tickled her arm as he leaned closer, his anger rolling off of him in waves. Neal had never seen someone so angry in her life! "I didn't steal anything, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Return what is mine and I will release you! Return it to me!"

All Neal could hear were the sounds of her own screams intermixed with the shouts of this enraged man before everything went dark.

**A/N: Ok! Soooo, what do you think? Also, don't worry you know who is not going to stay that aggressive. But I hope I've intrigued you enough to want to keep reading, please leave me reviews and let me know!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Chapter 2! Also consider this my blanket disclaimer that the only characters I own are my own, and no copyright infringement was intened.**

* * *

Neal cringed as she woke, her body screaming in protest as she tried to shield her eyes from the too bright torchlight that filtered in through her cell door.

_Cell?!_

Her breath caught in her throat as she sat up quicker than she should have, and looked around. It was a cell, of that she was sure, and certainly not where she expected to awaken! Irritably she stood to her feet, brushing off the dirt from her dress and peered out the cell door as best she could. She could see nothing.

This had to be a joke. Someone from her staff, or Thomas', banding together to pull off this elaborate hoax.

Hysterical. Really.

She yanked on the door, letting out a relenting sigh when it did not budge.

_Locked. Right, why would they put me in an open cell. That would be insane._

"Ha ha you guys, very funny. You can let me out now!" She called, leaning against the bars. "And I hope you have emergency personnel on standby because you've absolutely given me a heart attack."

She waited for the cackling laughter from the archeological interns, or from Helen and the caterers but no reply came. Frowning, she called again, louder this time. Still nothing. Where were they? This wasn't funny! She had an event to run!

"Hello! If there is not a formed line standing outside this cell in the next five seconds to release me and beg my forgiveness. I promise you each and every one will be standing in the unemployment line by morning. I'd hate to think you had anything to do with this Thomas!"

Nothing. No apologies, no people, only the sound of her own voice echoing back.

This wasn't right.

In the pit of her stomach she knew something was wrong, but she didn't want to face the obvious conclusion. How could she?

"Is anyone there?" She asked, tentatively, hating the fearful waver that could be heard in her voice.

Mental alarms were going off everywhere as her fear mounted and every fiber of her being all screamed the same warning:

_This wasn't right. Something is wrong. You have to get out of here!_

In vain, she pulled and tugged but of course they did not budge! Where was she? What had happened? The last thing she remembered was getting lost in the caves and looking for Thomas…but then there was that man! Neal shivered as the memory of his outrage resurfaced. Then, everything seemed to slow as the only logical conclusion came to mind for her.

_Oh, my God. I've been kidnapped!_ She thought in horror. Without thinking of the ramifications she began shaking the bars again, shouting as she desperately trying to move them.

"Hey! Hey, let me out of here!" She screamed, her sweat slicked hands sliding off the bars that she could not shake free, as hard as she tried. "Please! Please let me out! Oh my God, Oh my God. Please no. This isn't happening."

"Silence!" A voice commanded from out of nowhere, giving her something to hold onto!

"I will _not_ be silent! Let me out of here! Please." She pleaded. However there came no returning rebuttal, only silence once again.

Neal ripped off her heel and beat the bars as loud as she could, screaming and yelling in hopes that her ruckus would provoke some sort of action from anyone. She had to talk to someone, make demands, something! She carried on that way until her voice was raw, and it pained her to talk and even still she tried!

What was she going to do?

Fear clung to her as her breath came out in ragged gasps. How long had she been here? Just how many were there? What did they want? She prayed it was only money that they wanted and that their intention was to ransom her, but even still they must have mistaken her for someone else! She had money, sure, but nothing like some of the other guests! Why would they think she had any more than anyone else?

Suddenly her hands shot to her neck, grasping at nothing where the necklace should have been. The necklace! Where was it?

"Oh, he stole my necklace!" She shouted, slamming her shoe against the bars once more. Thomas was going to kill her! Suddenly she was a lot less scared as she beat against the bars with renewed vigor, screaming and cursing with all the venom she could muster! "You give me back my things and let me out! I know some excellent lawyers and I swear if you don't let me out of here I will make sure you rot in the worst prison for the rest of your life! I'll sue you for everything you have! I'll take it all. You've made a very big mistake, buddy! Huge! Don't you know who I am!"

"Please, enlighten me." A man replied, stepping out from around the corner so silently, Neal nearly fell back in surprise. There he was, she realized, fear seizing her vocal cords. That was the man that had taken her, she was sure of it! Neal sized him up quickly, trying to take a mental picture so she could relay the information back to the police.

He was imposingly tall, the limits of the cell door reaching only just above his head. His hair, so white it almost looked silver, fell down well past his shoulders; too long to be anything other than an intentional style choice and he wore robes so extravagant that Neal would have laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all if he were but anyone else.

But he wasn't just anyone else, she knew that as soon as he stepped into her view. In all her life, she had never met such a daunting figure. So commanding was his presence she felt as if the very air in the room bent to his will, the current of it crackling in response to his every move, despite his rather nonchalant appearance.

However, what really gave her pause were his eyes. Eyes a piercing blue and just as cold as the ice she was sure ran through his veins.

He was stunning, breath taking even.

Neal wanted to wring his neck.

Bringing herself to her full height, as best she could with one high heeled shoe, she jutted out her chin and regarded him with just as much disdain as he did her. How dare he look at her this way, like she was an inconvenience to him! _He_ had taken _her!_ If he was so disgusted by her he should have just let her be!

"Neal Carter. I'm sure you know me." Came her clipped reply, wavering only a little as she struggled to keep her balance atop the stiletto. The man, made a great show of pretending to think over her name.

"I know of no one by that name. Had you simply called yourself 'The Thief' perhaps that would have sparked some memory." He said, his tone droll and unimpressed. Neal barked out a mirthless laugh, as he now turned the full intensity of his gaze upon her.

"_Thief_? Me? Oh, that is rich, coming from you! Just tell me how much you want so I can give you the phone number of my assistant, pay this ransom and get the hell out of your weird _Criminal Minds _dungeon. Give me a number, I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement over a reasonable fee." She said, with an irritable sigh, yanking off her other shoe now and frowning as her dress trailed against the damp floor.

"I want what was stolen from me and nothing more. Though, I must admit, I find it laughable that you have the means to _negotiate_ your own release and yet you still chose to steal from me." He remarked in a tone that suggested he surely did not find anything about this situation laughable at all. Neal crossed her arms tighter as he frowned contemptuously at her strapless gown, suddenly feeling exposed and rather silly, but she quickly shrugged it off. It wasn't as if she had been able to plan a suitable outfit to be kidnapped in!

"My theft? What the are you talking about? I stole nothing from you! You kidnapped me and stole that necklace, which, let me tell you is a crime, you realize that right? A serious crime, and when Thomas finds out that you've stolen one of his artifacts-"

"Choose your words wisely when you speak to my King!" A woman spoke, her voice as fiery as the shade of her hair and Neal scoffed. How many people were in on this heist, hmm?

"Who's this? Your guard dog?" She asked, mockingly, to which the woman did not respond graciously. She lunged forward sending Neal careening backward to avoid her grasp. Just as quickly as the red-headed woman pounced the man barked out an order in an unrecognizable language, bringing her to heel. Neal sniffed as she regarded the pair, her point already being illustrated and coyly leaned against the wall. _Anyone can be bought even guard dogs_. "Twenty Thousand dollars, cash, in two days' time. Ten thousand now, ten thousand upon my release. Call my assistant, she'll set it up. How does that sound to you?"

"Unappealing." Came his tight reply, his jaw clenched as he regarded her. He remained her of a coiled snake ready to strike and with that mental image in mind Neal bit back a harsh reply and tried to call herself.

She was letting her emotions get the best of her. She needed to be in control of this situation and she could not do that if she kept mouthing off. Relenting, she plastered on a fake smile, tilting her head and started again.

"Look, I am sorry that you lost something. Really, I am. I'll even help you look for it if I can. But I did not take anything from you. I need you to believe that. Why would I do that? What good reason would I have to steal from someone as clearly powerful as you?" She asked, leaning languidly the bars and smiling up through her lashes. If she could just get him to come close enough, perhaps she could get a key, or a weapon! Hadn't flirting worked in the movies? _Like Bond Girls. Be a Bond Girl, Neal._ "Can't we talk about this? I could help you."

The man smirked, slowly stepping toward her, sizing her up as he did. Neal's heart beat faster as he gazed down at her and suddenly she was no longer quite sure of this plan.

"Is there ever a good reason to steal from a king?" He asked, lowering his voice as he leaned in closer, so close only the bars of the cell separated them. So close she could smell him. He was obviously insane, she realized, him and his entire cohort! He was no more a king than she was a queen but at this point she didn't care.

She just needed him to believe in her innocence.

She needed to survive.

She _would_ survive this she thought, her resolve strengthening as she gave him another coy smile. It was working, after all!

"Perhaps, only to steal his time." She replied. A wolfish smile tugged at his lips as he let out a low chuckle and slowly reached his hand up, brushing away a stray hair from her face. His fingers lingered there for a moment before lazily trailing down the side of her face to tilt up her chin.

Neal swallowed hard and turned her eyes away, unable to stand the intensity of his gaze. It felt as if he'd seen right through her, but, of course that was impossible. As he bent down agonizingly slow, Neal leaned forward in response. _He's falling for it, Neal. Kiss him, maybe he's got a gun tucked away in there, the keys!_

"Do you think I am a fool?" He whispered, his breath tickling her ear. It took Neal a full beat to realize her plan had back fired and when she tried to step back his grasp tightened holding her in place. Neal felt her face burn with embarrassment mentally kicking herself, as she struggled in his grasp. His eyes burned with outrage as he glared down at her. "Tell me, is it Thror who sent you? Hmm? What price did he promise you to flaunt those jewels before me? Not nearly enough for the price you will pay, I promise you that! Did he tell you that they were stolen or did you simply not care? Has he truly fallen so far into madness that he thought he could bait me into buying back the heirlooms of my people with a pretty face?! A human woman no less! Does he truly believe my desires to be so base!" He seethed, voice getting louder and louder with barely suppressed rage.

"No! I'm sorry. I-I'm sorry! There is no Thor, I don't even know who that is! No one paid me to do anything."

"Oh, you are sorry?" He asked, letting go of her chin and sneering down in mock understanding. "Well, in that case, tell me what you have done with it and only then will I let you go. That is what _I_ am willing to negotiate."

"I don't have it!"

"Then tell me where you have bewitched it."

"Are you kidding me? You stole it from me! It was around my neck when you first attacked me, and I ran and it was gone! I haven't bewitched anything! You stole from _me_ and honestly if you want your ransom I'd get started on making that phone call. I'll give you her direct line, ask for Helen and she'll connect you to my banker." She argued, staring back at him between the bars of the cell. It was getting harder and harder to conceal her outrage and fear and this entire situation was starting to make her feel insane! " I have to warn you, though, you've made a stupid decision to take me when there were way bigger fish to fry at that Gala! Angelique! That's who you should have taken! She's married to a Baron, you could have gotten way more money for all the effort you put into taking me. I'm sure you need it judging by the size of this place. What's your electric bill like, hmm? Does the rent for a murder dungeon like this run pretty steep now in today's economy?"

As soon as the careless words were out of her mouth she regretted them. Murder dungeon was obviously not a word she wanted to toss around lightly, least she give him any ideas, and as his eyes hardened and face suddenly become blank and unreadable, Neal realized she had made a terrible mistake.

The man barked out an order and immediately the cell doors were opened. Two more men, wearing strange armor and sporting the same long hair, yanked her out of her hole. Neal kicked and screamed, every fiber of her being warning her not to let them take her anywhere else, for she would surely be killed but when she looked around, finally able to get a full view of exactly where she was, she began to tremble.

All around her, as far as she could see were rows and rows of cells just like hers. There had to be at least twenty, but there could be more for all she knew! She glanced down and realized that she was only a step away from a rather steep drop down. She let out a yelp, trying to step further back but the guards held her arms tight, keeping her in place. The man stepped closer, towering over her and regarding her as one would a rat in their path, his impassive expression somehow more frightening to her in this moment than his rage.

Neal's eyes focused on the sharp tips of his ears that pointed out from underneath his hair. In fact, she realized with alarm, they all had pointed ears. _It's true, you really do focus on the silliest details when you're about to _die she thought morbidly, cringing as the man grasped her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

"I believe, that I have given you the wrong impression, as to the enormity of your crimes. I will rectify that now." He calmly explained, his voice velvety smooth, as stark contrast to the words he spoke. Neal was sure that if she had not been held upright, her legs would have collapsed underneath her she was trembling so much. All the bravado she had felt before simply evaporated. "You are in no position to bargain with me. You have stolen from a king. You have lied to a king. Do you imagine that this will go unpunished? If your ill-conceived attempt at seduction was meant to earn my mercy, I can assure you that your impudence has seen to that."

"I –I haven't lied to you." Neal insisted, shrinking back from his grasp. "Honestly, I haven't. I didn't steal anything. Just tell me what you want! I just want to go home. Please!" She sobbed, hot tears pouring down her face. She had no idea how to get out of this mess now! Every plan she'd conjured had blown up in her face and she had a gut feeling that all the money in the world could not buy her way out of this. Who were these people? Some weird cult?

"Look up." He ordered, forcing her chin up forward to wear the light streamed through a break at the peak of the dungeon. "What is that?"

"The sun."

"Well done." He applauded, mockingly "And what do you hear?" He asked again, and Neal strained her ears to listen, but she could hear nothing, save her own choked sobs and the flow of falling water from somewhere in the cavern.

"Nothing." She whispered, meeting his eyes.

"That is because you are alone here. There is no one else. No one to hear you pleading, no one to hear your lies. If you continue on with this pretense I will ensure that you spend every day of the rest of your life alone, in the darkest pit of this cell until the short years of your mortal life have been utterly spent. You will never see the sun again. You will never hear another voice again." He seethed, and Neal knew he was absolutely telling the truth. "I will not be mocked. You cannot begin to fathom what they are worth to my people. _My_ people! Do I make myself clear? I will ask once more to tell me what you have done with it. Only once."

Neal scrambled to think of something, anything, to say but she could think of nothing! She hadn't stolen anything!

Should she just lie and tell him she'd hidden it somewhere and escape while he looked?

"King Thranduil has asked you a question." One of the guards said, jostling her arm as he spoke. They held no pity for the mortal who had stolen the only physical memory they had left of their queen.

"Just call Helen, she'll get you what you want. Please…I didn't take anything! I just wore it for the Gala but I had permission! We didn't know it belonged to anyone, Thomas said no one spoke up about it!"

"A mortal life is so short…it is unfortunate you wish to spend what little you have left of it down here, but so be it." The man, Thranduil, responded eyes hardening in resolution as he turned away, flanked by two more guards, and with a flick of his hand Neal was being dragged back to her cell. "Perhaps some more time then, will make you more forth coming."

Any hope Neal had of release was immediately extinguished. It was hopeless, she'd be stuck here forever and no one would even know what happened to her! For how long would her family and friends search for her? How long would her name be plastered across the headlines and on new sites before they grew tired and moved on to the next?

"I can't confess to something I haven't done! I certainly can't give back what I don't have! I'll pay you whatever you want, just let me out of here! Just-just wait! Wait!" She shouted, her voice cracking from fear and overuse. He made no answer as he ascended, which only heightened her fear. "You're insane! You can't do this! You can't just leave me here!"

The guards unceremoniously threw her back into the cell and as the door slammed shut, cementing her horrifying reality of her situation suddenly became very real. No one spared her even a second glance as the small party moved on, leaving her to her castigation.

Helen was not coming.

Thomas was not coming.

How would they even find her? Where was she? She was going to die down here and for what? For a necklace? Even if it did belong to him, all he had to do was ask! What was his problem! _He's insane, that's his problem! No one in their right mind acts like that, or talks like that._

"This will cease if you simply return the jewels. They mean much to him." The redhead woman said soothingly, evidently having stayed behind to try and retract more information from her. What was this, Neal thought mordantly, good cop bad cop? "He is an honorable Ellon and a just King. He will keep his word, one way or another. Whatever price you received cannot be worth your life! Thror will not come to your aid. The Dwarves care for no others but their own kin, surely you must know this."

Neal shook her head, letting out a miserable laugh. How many times would she have to explain that she was innocent?

"I have no idea what the hell you mean by 'Ellon' but he doesn't seem very honorable to me." She spat. "I didn't steal that necklace but I wish I had now!"

"Forgive me, I assumed you knew. Ellon simply means a male Elf. It is the same as if you would call someone an honorable man."

"What?" Neal asked in exasperation, staring hopelessly at the woman in front of her, the pointed ear suddenly clicking. "You think you're Elves?"

"Did…you not know?"

"Know what?"

"You are in the woodland realm. Under the halls of King Thranduil." The woman explained, concern spreading across her features as she regarded Neal with fresh eyes. "You cannot tell me you did not know. It is not an easy journey through our woods."

Neal closed her eyes, leaning her head against the cool stone of her cell. Hot tears streamed down her face as the red headed woman questioned her. _They think their Elves? That this man, this Thranduil is their king?_

This was ridiculous! How could she possibly hope to reason with someone who was insane?

"You're all crazy." Neal whispered, the only response she could even give right now. It was hopeless. She was never getting out of here.

The woman's brow furrowed, confused by the human's lack of knowledge. It did not make sense? It was rumored that Thror was growing mad, but surely, he wouldn't send a human woman into the very halls of Thranduil unaware? And certainly not one so simple as her!

"I will be back in a week to determine if you have changed your position. I do hope …I hope that you will reconsider."

**What do you think? Read, Follow, Review! Please and thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Ok, third chapter! I hope you're all enjoying this so far, it's fun to write and I'm excited to write Thranduil's character as the story goes on. Let me know what you think, and if you like this feel free to check out my other story To The Begging I Will Go on my page (it's a Legolas/OC so no Thrandy, sorry).**

**Thank you to Guest #1, #2, #3 and #4, HannahRe, Camelotgirl17, leward1992, and Shetan20 for the reviews.**

* * *

Thranduil sat at his desk, tapping his finger impatiently as he listened to his new Captain of the Guard give her reports of the goings on in his forest.

Tauriel had taken to the position well, and he had been quite pleased with what she had accomplished thus far but it was still a new position, even with Legolas keeping an eye on her, the growing threat could prove to be too much for the young soldier.

It was for this reason that he had taken such in active interest. He wanted to ensure that she would handle it well and that their forest and his people would be safe.

It should have commanded his undivided attention.

"Very well, you may dispatch another patrol to clear out the south borders." Thranduil ordered, waving her away and grabbing a quill to sign the report and order.

"It has been done, my lord." Tauriel replied, causing the Elven King to pause and raise a questioning brow. Tauriel stilled, hesitating for only the slightest moment before speaking. "Being that I am the Captain, I was told, that dispatching patrols was within my command. I was told it would be…taxing for you to continuously permit me to do tasks that were well within my jurisdiction."

"So it is." Thranduil replied, eyeing the elleth as he leaned back languidly in his chair, amusement thickening his voice. "And who told you this?"

"Legolas, my lord. Being familiar with the position and the duties that come with it he advised me on the best course of action. He has been most helpful."

"So it would seem." It all made sense now, he thought drolly. "Legolas has spoken very highly of you, he is confident that you will exceed my expectations. He was quite insistent that you be named Captain in his stead. Though I hope that you will not command all his attention, now that more responsibility lay on his shoulders." His keen eyes scanned her, waiting for any reaction to the compliments, or signs of ardor as she spoke of his son but he saw nothing, only her appreciation.

Thranduil resumed his tapping as he watched her, waiting for her to respond.

"Thank you, my lord. Legolas is a worthy instructor, perhaps that is why he feels his confidence is so well placed."

"Yes, perhaps." Thranduil was not dull, and while his duties as king kept him occupied he was in no way an absent father. So, Legolas's obvious feelings for Tauriel were not a shock to him, but he had assumed they would wane at some point. Thranduil had hoped his son would see that this was not a match that would bring joy to both parties.

Thranduil gave her curt nod, signaling the end of their conversation, as he carried on with his tasks.

Eagerly he opened the sealed letter, inwardly rolling his eyes at the garish Dwarven insignia on the wax seal and was just about to open it when he noticed Tauriel had not left. With a great sigh of annoyance, he placed the letter back on the desk and turned his attention back to the elleth.

"Anything else?" He asked, knowing full well there was, and judging by the firm set of her jaw it was going to be quite the conversation.

"Yes, it's about the human woman." Tauriel replied, her words tumbling out quicker than she anticipated. Thranduil's gaze hardened.

"What about her?"

"She is ill, my lord, she will not eat much more than a few bites…and she seems very out of sorts."

"Then send for a healer. That is also within your jurisdiction, is it not?" he quipped.

"I do not believe the sickness is in her body, but in her mind."

"Yes, well guilt can have that affect."

"My lord, if I might speak plainly…to say what I wish, would require it." Tauriel asked boldly, her chin lifted high and ready to face her king's ire. She did not imagine this conversation would go well.

Thranduil leaned back in his chain, nostrils' flaring in displeasure, but with languid wave of his hand he permitted the elleth to say what she would, if only to be rid of her.

"The night you had sentenced her, she and I spoke afterward. I had hoped that a honeyed word might prompt honesty…however it only seemed to confuse her."

"She is confused, Tauriel, it is obvious she is not well! Were she of a right mind, she would not have found herself in this position at all."

"Be that as it may, my lord, she seems to have no knowledge of where she is at all. She says she has never heard of the Greenwoord, Lake Town or Erebor. I showed her a map, so that she might show me where she is from and she laughed. She is adamant that we are not real, that Elves are not real. She still believes that she has been taken from her home…she is not well my lord."

Thranduil's jaw tightened, the only physical evidence that he was even listening to Tauriel at all. _That_ was certainly not the desired end result. It wasn't unanticipated…humans could be so fragile, and the human woman did appear to already be off kilter, but he hadn't meant to incite madness!

"And what do you believe should be done about it?" He asked, keeping his tone as clipped as possible.

"I believe…that her spirit is heavily burdened. She should be brought out of her cell, perhaps stay in a room here so that she way be able to reconcile what she believes to be true with what she can see, touch and taste. It might help her understand and repair her mind." Tauriel said after several moments. Her mouth opened and closed, letting the words she wanted to say tumble about until finally they spilled out of elleth with little to no effort on her part. "And I believe it is as she says. I do not believe she stole this necklace from you, nor do I believe she knows of the whereabouts."

"Oh? Is this what you believe?" The king asked mockingly, leaning forward in feigned interest. "And you have come to this conclusion from the mere _hours_ you have spent in her company?"

"I do, my lord." Tauriel answered, casting her eyes down in reverence. In truth, Tauriel had spent more than a few hours with the woman, all in an attempt to gain information of course, but she could not deny her curiosity! What should have been limited to a weekly meeting of only a few minutes, had now increased by the hour every few days! Of course, she would not admit that to her King, so instead she would simply accept the slight. "When I spoke with her, I heard no lie in her voice, only fear. At times, yes, that fear is manifested as anger, but there was no lie."

"Well thank you for your council, _Captain_, I will take your wisdom into consideration." Thranduil said caustically, standing to his feet and dismissing the elleth with a wave of his hand.

He shoved down his growing irritation and instead turned his attention back to the letter.

Initially, he had been quite certain that the woman currently wasting away in his cell was guilty. He had seen the necklace across her neck with his very eyes, and then it had vanished so suddenly, that as the days passed Thranduil started to doubt his initial assumption. Oh, she was guilty of something, that was to be sure, but loathe as he was to admit it, Tauriel was right…there was no lie in the human woman's voice, however grating and assumptive as it was.

So, it was with great desperation that Thranduil decided to send out a letter to Thror, under the pretense that he was willing to renegotiate the price Thror had so foolishly set for his own jewels. It was the Elven King's hope that from this letter, he would be able to determine the woman's guilt, if only to allay the growing doubt that had seeded itself in his mind.

However, as his eyes scanned the page, once…twice… a third time even, it was to his great frustration that the letter had not done anything of the sort. It fact it had only served to prove the woman's innocence, it would seem, as Thror denied any knowledge of the human woman and personally invited the Elven King to Erebor himself to view the jewels in question and allow Thranduil the opportunity to pay homage to Thror in light of their recent discovery.

Thranduil swore to himself, tossing the letter back onto his desk and landing with an irritable flop back in his chair. _Now what_? He asked himself, resting his head in his hand as he gazed into the crackling fire.

If he knew that the outcome of the letter would result in him having to personally go to Erebor and congratulate that deranged Dwarf he never would have sent it in the first place! If it was not for the unfounded guilt he felt toward the thief he would not be in this mess.

One human woman should not cause him this much of a headache!

And yet, he realized with an irritable growl, she might not be a thief at all. He had acted rashly, foolishly, he knew that after she had fallen out in front of him upon their first meeting. That had not been the most tactful approach…Even worse still was his behavior in the dungeons when she had spoken so brazenly to him, as if she were his equal, or his better! And then when she insinuated that he would want...?! Did she think he was a fool? That he would just crumple with a bat of her lashes and he would be such a drooling simpleton he'd have no clue what her intention was?

Still he should not have reacted in such a way, his quick temper was to blame and no one else. His lips curled in distaste as he moved to pour himself a glass of wine. To his own self he had believed he had a reign on his temper, not nearly being close to the hostile and avaricious King he knew others thought him to be. Evidently, he would need to reevaluate.

In some instances, it suited his purpose for them to think him this way, and to be honest he hadn't ever really cared what anyone else had thought, until now! Now that he'd condemned a possibly innocent woman to a fate she didn't deserve in front of several of his most trusted guards!

Thranduil took another sip, letting the wine roll around in his mouth, savoring the taste of it as he mulled over what was to be done. He _had_ to go to Erebor now, that was unavoidable…and were Thror unable to produce the jewels, this would then confirm to him that the woman was guilty.

_And if not?_ The inevitable thought answered, bringing up once again the uncomfortable feeling of uncertainty within him.

If not he would deal with it then, he decided, standing to his feet and opening the door beckoning to the guard who stood at attention just outside.

"Please inform Tauriel, that upon my return, should all go as she assumed, I will do just that…but her care will fall under_ her _jurisdiction." There, Thranduil thought, looking down his nose in smug satisfaction, it was out of his hands now and in Tauriel's. Should the woman not be what Tauriel had expected then this decision would also serve as a training tool for the young Captain.

"Yes, my lord."

"One more thing," Thranduil added, his voice coated in displeasure, "have my belongings prepared to leave for Erebor. We leave in the morn."

* * *

Neal followed solemnly behind the guards, lamenting her imminent death. And death was certainly imminent, for what other reason would there be to have her dragged from her cell nearly two weeks later?

Or was it three weeks?

Neal didn't know she'd lost count. What she did know what no one had come for her. Had these people even bothered to ask for a ransom or would no one pay it? She fought back the wave of hurt and anger, blinking her eyes furiously to drive back the brimming tears. It wasn't as if she could blame them, not really. Helen was her employee, and while they were friendly she was certain they couldn't call themselves friends, and Thomas…well she was sure he would try, but how hard would someone work to free a woman who he was no longer romantically linked with?

She should have told him, that day in the trailer, she should have told him how sorry she was. How wrong she was. He was a good man who loved her and she blew it, for what? A job? Money? She was young then, and a fool and now he'd never know how sorry she was. Never see his face again.

Neal's bare feet stumbled over the crumpled hem of her dress, hiking it up irritably as she followed after them, but her attention was quickly drawn to what lie to the right. A large set of doors, looking like glass with branches and vines woven throughout its design were wide open displaying an eerily familiar ballroom which was a flurry of activity at the present moment. Neal gawked at the sight, her breath catching in her throat as a torrent of questions raced through her mind.

There were more people in the ballroom than she ever would have imagined and none of them were concerned with Neal or the guards who stood just outside, far too absorbed in their dancing and merrymaking. The music and the smell of food wafted through the air, making her stomach growl in protest, but that's not what had drawn her attention. Sure, she had been floored by the sheer volume of people, she certainly hadn't expected _that_ many people, but it did further cement her theory that this was some sort of weird cult. Cults had droves of people in their following, right?

But, no, what made her do a double take was the striking resemblance to Thomas's found site. A site she had spent countless hours in. Images of the Gala flashed in her mind, the band would have been there, the caterers over there…Neal's eyes traveled up to the ornate chandelier boasting star like crystals radiating more light than a candle or bulb ever could and she frowned. That certainly looked an awfully lot like the chandelier they had found and tried to restore at Thomas's site but…that had been broken, this one was whole.

"Keep moving." The guard said, knocking her out of her reverence and she snapped her mouth shut following after them, but still she could not resist one final look back. _It can't be… _she argued as her eyes scanned the rest of the hallway, one that had grown increasingly familiar as they walked onward. There was no way that she was still in the dig site, that she had spent these last few weeks _here_. There was no way!

Her breathing picked up as she looked around her, wide eyed, looking for any clue that would distinguish this place from the Gala's site.

_It's far too clean! Everything looks well maintained, well cared for._ The site was well preserved sure, but things had broken, vines and plants and trees had nearly taken over the space_…_it had taken them nearly a month to make it presentable to even hold the Gala there!

No this must be a replica, surely, she reasoned staring in amazement at the nearly identical archways the she had marveled over with Helen. Neal tore her eyes away and focused on the honey colored hair that flowed down the guards back, glaring daring daggers in it as she did so.

Yes, this had to be a replica of some sort, and perhaps this cult was protesting the site's restoration? Maybe they thought it was sacrilegious or something, it wouldn't have been the first time. It certainly wasn't the same place. It wasn't.

They continued walking through the labyrinth of halls in silence, not passing anyone and eventually Neal was shuffled into what appeared to be a study. A rather ornate study by the looks of it, but none of that mattered because there, in the center of the room, sat a table laden with food! Her mouth dropped open and she could have sworn she was drooling as she glanced at the variety of meats and fruits, rolls of what smelled like fresh bread, gravies, pastry cakes and wine! God, had she missed wine!

Every impulse begged her to run to the table and stuff herself stupid with the food but she merely cocked an eyebrow at the soldiers.

"Last meal?" She asked. "It's rather impressive, I'll admit, but I would have much preferred some sort of input. If one is to die its ill-mannered not to ask what they'd like for their last meal. Especially with a wine pairing! If you've picked the wrong wine you might as well kill me now because the rest of the meal will surely be torture."

The guard stared at her flatly, waiting until she'd finished and then nodded to the seat, without so much as a smile.

"Sit. Eat. The King will be with you shortly." He said turning to the door as a light of hope began to burn in her eyes. She was being left alone? She could escape then! He must have sensed her brimming excitement for as soon as that hope was lit within her it was immediately extinguished. "We wait outside."

Neal, deflated, tromped to the chair, no longer trying to appear brave. She was definitely going to die, there was no way around it now. She wanted to cry, begged the hot tears to fall down her face or her body to tremble in fear, to feel something right now but instead she felt nothing.

No fear, so sadness, only regret…and that to her seemed worse. Perhaps she'd cried enough since her arrival, her body incapable of expending anymore energy into creating tears or fear but she supposed it didn't really matter anymore.

With a sigh, she sat in the chair, helping herself to a plate of food. The guard had told her to eat and she wasn't going to waste her final hours staring at food for the sake of good manners! She ate slowly, enjoying the taste of the hearty meal in comparison to the bland food she'd been given in the cell and looked around the room.

The study was far larger than any average study should be, the cavernous ceilings decorated in the same starlit crystals that hung from the chandelier and Neal absentmindedly wondered about the wattage and battery power of their chosen lighting options.

Papers were neatly stacked on the desk, a quill and ink sat near the end with a lavish chair in front and behind it.. Everything neat and tidy, in its exact place. Rage started to boil in her belly as she stared at the opulent room. These people clearly didn't need _money! _So what was the point in taking her then? To humiliate her? To prove a point? What possible reason could they have to put her through this; and then to what, to ply her with food and drink until she was too stupid drunk to fight back when they killed her? What for?!

Neal stood up, the chair scrapping against the stone floor as she grabbed the bottle of wine, deftly uncorking it moving to pour it into a glass and then thought better of it. Who cared if she drank it from the bottle? She was dying, right? Decorum be damned.

Dying for what?! She strolled over to the desk, taking a swing from the bottle and sneered at the desk, tight and orderly. Was this where her fate was decided? Where this king, this Thranduil sat with his other cult leaders and declared her life meaningless and void? Not worth the trouble of keeping her?

She swore, loudly as the ire built up inside of her and she knocked the papers aside, sending the floating to the ground. It was petty, she knew it. She was an adult who was, essentially, throwing a temper tantrum.

She didn't care. She was too angry to care! If her life was really so inconsequential to these people than what was a little mess making, hmm? What would they care? Probably wouldn't have to clean it up anyway it was far too satisfying to stop now. Neal took another swing of her wine before tipping the contents onto the large chair, drenching its seat in the crimson colored wine before tossing the bottle across the room.

Louder now she continued her tirade, cursing their king, cursing these people, everyone who had every wronged her as she poured the ink along the desk, the black liquid seeping into the papers that were left and then she grabbed another pile throwing them across the room, laughing to herself as they drifted to the floor.

_You're freaking out, snap out of it, Neal! You're acting insane! This is really how you wanna go out, the crazy girl who tore up the King's study?_

"Fine with me." She declared, answering her own question as she grabbed her plate of food and threw it across, watching delighted as the sauce and chicken clung to the walls, slowly sliding down the walls, the grapes bouncing across the floor.

"Ha!" She barked whirling around to grab another plate of whatever she could grab first, sending plate after plate of food hurling at the wall. She whipped around grabbing another but stopped as her brown eyes met piercing blue ones.

"I take it you did not find the food to your taste?" Thranduil asked staring down at her with contempt, or amusement, it was hard for Neal to really tell the difference with him. "Something about an improper wine pairing?"

Every sense of rage, despair and delirium shriveled into nothing under the weight of his gaze and she fought for words to say, something brave, but no words came. Nothing. Her mouth had gone dry and she licked her lips, as if the lubrications would force the right words out.

"Please, continue." Thranduil said, a smirk upon his face as he waved his hand in the direction of the chaos. "Or are you quite finished?"

_Ass!_ Neal thought, cheeks burning as she set the plate awkwardly back on the table, trying to maintain some sense of dignity. _Who are you kidding? Nothing about this situation is dignified! Decorum be damned remember? What about that?_

"I've finished thank you." She replied, holding her head up and forcing herself to meet his gaze. She wanted to slap that smirk off his perfect face. He was far too handsome.

It was unnerving.

Kidnappers were not supposed to be handsome, right? _Wrong, obviously wrong_. She stood there for a moment, the tension in the room mounting as the silence stretched on.

Thranduil simply stared down at her, the smirk on his face growing wider and wider as her nostrils flared in shame. _Say something, Neal. Do something!_ She urged herself, but the longer she stood there voiceless the more she was reminded she did not have the upper hand here.

"Please, sit. I imagine you must be exhausted." He said, the smirk not leaving his face as he made his way to his own seat.

"Quite the opposite in fact." Neal countered, raising her chin a fraction higher. "Being locked away in a dank cell does wonders for one's stamina."

"I can imagine." He said flatly, languidly sitting back in his chair. Neal's stomach growled treacherously, demanding more food. "Eat, if you would like. Though if you find the food disagreeable I would ask you not to throw it on my floor. I quite like the rug." Neal sniffed, and sat obligingly, fighting the embarrassment that filled her as she grabbed another plate and gathered some more food. The king himself did not eat, watching her instead, all previous traces of amusement wiped from his face.

"Thank you." She ground out, hating herself only a little bit. She tried to enjoy her meal, but she could feel his gaze on her, even still, and the food turned to ash in her mouth. She chewed slowly looking at anything but his face but the silence was maddening! He had to know how unsettling he was, surely! Or perhaps that was his intention? _Stupid, your being stupid. _

"Where are you from? Lake town?" He asked, catching her off guard and she snorted in reply.

"Why do you care?" She asked, he merely raised an eyebrow, waiting for her response. "Originally? Denver, and then I moved to L.A after college." The King rolled his eyes.

"Surely, we can dispense with the lies by now, can we not?"

"Why would I lie about where I lived?" She asked, popping a grape in her mouth before grabbing the wine glass and downing it, hoping it would strengthen her resolve. If she was lucky, she'd be good and drunk by the time they got around to killing her.

"You would be surprised by the things people lie about." He responded, grabbing the bottle and refilling her glass. "What brought you to my realm then? I have spoken with Thror and he claims he has no knowledge of you. Is this true?"

"Of course, it's true!" Neal retorted, taking another drink of the wine, looking at it suspiciously as she spoke. _This is some awfully strong wine. _"I told you, I have no idea who this Thror or Thor or whatever his name, is. I didn't know I was in your _realm_ I was at the Gala looking for Thomas and then I ran into you. It wasn't an anticipated outcome, I assure you." Thranduil nodded, filling her cup again.

"And Thomas is your…husband?"

"Y-yes." She stammered, taking another drink to wash down her lie. Why did she say that? Why Thomas? If she wanted him to know people would miss her she could have given him any name. Literally any other name. _Relax._ _Just go with it._ "Yes. Thomas is my husband. My lawfully wedded…husband."

"I see." He hummed, leaning back and waiting for her to empty her drink again. "And was it his idea then, to send his wife in to steal from me?"

"What? No! Thomas would never do that, he's a good man." Neal argued. "He's a good man who wouldn't waste his time."

"More wine?" He asked, and Neal nodded.

"You're not having any?"

"No, thank you."

"Oh please, I insist."

"You insist I drink my own wine?" He scoffed.

"Well I can't drink alone, can I?"

"Tempting offer, but no thank you."

"Oh…" Neal felt the blood rush from her face as she stared into the glass, horrified by her own stupidity. He wasn't trying to loosen her up, he was trying to kill her! She pushed the cup away, the wine sloshing onto the table. "It's poisoned!"

"It is not poisoned." He refuted, barking out a laugh. "Why would you think such a thing?"

"Oh, I don't know probably because you're going to kill me!" She shrieked. Her heartbeat was racing and her skin grew hot, did she taste metal? She couldn't tell if these reactions were panic or a manifestation of the poison.

"If I wanted you killed, it certainly would not be by poison, believe me."

"Really? Seems like a good enough tactic as any. Less messy too, I suppose. Wow, you really are the worst. The _actual_ worst human being in the world. Those can be my last words."

"Are you always this prone to theatrics?" He asked with a role of his eyes. "You haven't been poisoned." He stood to his feet, grabbing her glass and tipping the contents back down his throat, setting the glass down with a flourish.

"Oh my God!" She cried staring at the empty glass. "What did you just do."

"Allaying your fears." He explained, pouring another glass and repeated the action once more. He needed the drink now, he realized, and wondered if every encounter with the woman would prompt him to drink.

"Great, that's just great. Really, well done! What happens when your guard dogs come in to see me standing over your dead body, hmm? What a great look for me, freshly sprung from prison and witness to the murder of their dead pseudo-sovereign." Thranduil barked out a laugh, pouring another glass in a final demonstration. "Can you stop?! Imagine with me, for a moment how this is going to go for me here."

"I suppose I will not really care much, if I am dead." He replied, finishing his drink and turning a satisfied smile to her. Neal let out a mirthless laugh, rolling her eyes.

"A joke? You're making jokes? Really?"

"Your fear is misplaced and quite ridiculous. A ridiculous assumption prompts a ridiculous response." He explained, standing over her still as he watched her shoulders slump, visibly relaxed for now and he shoved down that cumbersome twinge of guilt. "You seem quite convinced that you are to be killed, but why? Another crime you would like to admit to?" Neal scoffed.

"What other reason could you possibly have to drag me out of a cell that you more or less left me to _die_ in, hmm?"

Thranduil heaved a sigh, and walked over to his desk, irritably staring down at the destruction atop it before pulling open one of the drawers. Without uttering he set down a letter in front of her, motioning for her to read it as he sat back in his chair, his chin in his hand.

Neal stared at it for a moment before grabbing the letter and staring at it.

"I cannot possibly read this." Neal said with a huff.

"You cannot read?"

"I can _read_, just not gibberish." She said, closing the letter and handing it back to him. He didn't take it, narrowing his eyes at her in suspicion. "What does it say?"

"In short," Thranduil explained, grinding his teeth. He supposed this was penance for his crimes. Fitting. "It explains your innocence in this matter, proof that you have not taken the necklace as previously assumed. I…was mistaken." Neal's jaw dropped, staring at the letter. This…this letter was the key her freedom.

"Was that an apology?" She asked, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. This was it. It was over. It was all over, she was going home! She would live! Thranduil stared at her, practically daring her to press the matter further.

"Yes." Came his clipped response.

"Must have been awful for you."

"Unbearable."

"Well," Neal said, tucking into her meal with renewed vigor. "I appreciate all your _hospitality_, truly a five star rating, but I'd like to leave as soon as possible."

"You misunderstand me." Thranduil said.

"No, I don't think I do. You said the letter proved my innocence. I'm free to go." _And I'm going straight to the police _Neal thought.

"I said you were innocent of the crimes you were charged with. Specific to this matter. That was my mistake and I've rectified that-"

"Hardly!"

"However," he continued his expression suddenly growing hard after her interruption. "Innocent you are not. There are secrets you hide and lies you tell and until I can ascertain what point and purpose you will remain a guest in my home."

"I beg your pardon?!" She choked out.

"I extend to you the curtesy of my home. A room will be provided for you, along with more suitable clothing."

"But I can't leave?" She asked incredulously. "So I'm still a prisoner?" Thranduil stood to his feet, clearly finished with the conversation.

"Call it whatever you find most suitable, though I imagine the circumstances are much more preferable to your previous arrangement."

"Not really, actually. A cage is a cage no matter how _suitable_ it is. If I'm a prisoner that you'll have to drink me like one. I'll go back to my cell, thank you." Neal responded, her voice hardening as she picked up her fork and continued to eat her food, hoping to live off the memory of its taste for a while. Thranduil stared at her, mouth slightly agape.

"Very well." He said grabbing the plate from her. "I will have you escorted back to your cell."

"Hey!" Neal protested petulantly.

"You cannot pick and choose which parts of my generosity you will accept. You accept all of it or none of it." He said, his anger seeping into his words.

"Actually, I think I can." Neal retorted, dropping her fork anyway. "This, all of this, is insane! You have no reason to keep me here, none at all! Why?"

"Because I am King and I may do as I see fit for the sake of my people!" He seethed, towering over her.

"Well you're not my King!" She shouted back. She'd never been angrier in her life! To have freedom so close and then snatched away, it was maddening! "I don't care that you think you're some Elf King. I don't care if you and your whole lot have some warped idea of reality. All I care about is getting home. Do you really think I'm some sort of threat? Me? Really?! I mean look at me! You're insane."

The door flew open and the guards marched in, assessing the situation and ready to move should their command it.

"Oh, yeah, that's nice. Here comes the royal guard. Because I'm such a threat, right?" She sneered.

"Wait outside." Thranduil ordered as the guards looked hesitantly between themselves but did as ordered. "Tauriel told me of your delusions, that you believe there is only the race of men. I cannot imagine you are _that_ simple but perhaps I am wrong. She pities you because she believes your mind is broken and while I sympathize I am not as easily swayed as she is."

"Because Elves aren't real you lunatic!" Neal screamed, this was insane! She had to be going insane! She ran her hands through her unkempt hair, pressing her palms to her eyes to keep the tears from flowing. "Please, please just forget it, forget I said anything. I'll stay in whatever room you want just let me go home!"

"Of course, _you_ are no threat as you say." The king said with a smile and Neal shook her head.

"What?"

"Whatever you have schemed it is certainly not by your own doing, and as it was your husband's name, your Thomas, that you called out I can only assume he is in on this as well. Perhaps the two of you thought you could steal away into my realm unbidden and take what you wanted, and when you were discovered he left you."

"He wouldn't do that." Neal ground out. "Because there is nothing planned, we're not stealing anything!"

"Very well then." Thranduil said with a wave of his arm, shouting out an order to the guards who quickly walked through the door, standing on either side of her. "Then I invite your husband to my home. He may prove your innocence and speak on your behalf and once I am satisfied that you both have been honest you may leave, with my most sincere apologies and compensation for your troubles. Until then you are a guest here, whether you like it or not."

Neal's jaw dropped and her mind ran in circles. As if she would ask Thomas to come here?! What if it was a trap? It was obviously a trap. She wasn't going to risk his life for this guy! _Just lie, Neal, make something up._

"Well then, I expect a sizable compensation as I have been _very_ troubled." She snapped. With her head raised high she ignored the victorious smile that spread across the king's face. He had her, he knew it. There was no way she was bringing Thomas into this mess, but when he didn't show up…what then? "You may show me to my room now, I'm rather tired." She said cooly.

"Of course." He said with a smile. _No one should be that good looking, especially not him!_ _Wipe that smug look off your face! _"Would you like a plate sent with you?"

"No thank you, it appears I've lost my appetite. I'd like to wash up, so that I might be presentable when my husband arrives."

"Of course." Thranduil smiled, "I imagine you will want to tidy up the mess you have made in my study first?" Neal ground her teeth, her nostrils flaring.

"Naturally." She said, a saccharine sweet smile on her face.

"Then I shall have your room prepared. Once you are finished here then you may retire. Good evening, Neal Carter. I expect I'll be seeing much more of you." He said and with a rustle of fabrics he left her alone, with her two guards, and a mess that was a perfect illustration of the trouble she was in.

_What now, Neal?!_

**A/N: OK! There you have it. Read, Review and tell me what you think.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Alrighty, here's chapter 4! Btw, most of the elves are going to be referred to as men or women because that's what Neal thinks they are, so if you see it just trust that they're elves and once Neal realizes their elves it'll be known in the writing. I haven't quite found a way around that yet in my writing so if you have tips I would appreciate it! Anyway, thank you to leward1992, Camelotgirl17 (I hope you were able to find it!), Honoria Granger (typo, my apologies! I've corrected it), Guest #1 and Guest #2. Hope you all will continue to enjoy!**

* * *

The door closed behind her and Neal stared about the room that was now merely an upgraded cell to her. Though, as her eyes landed on the large bed in the middle of the room, all previous demands she had about being sent back to the dungeon were silenced. _Well, if I can profit off his guilt for a while, what's the harm in that._

Besides, she reasoned, she would need a good night's sleep if she were going to escape! With a fatigued sigh, she sauntered over to the bed, stopping just short of climbing in, least she soil the sheets with her dirty clothes. She'd need a bath too, of course. She wouldn't go to sleep dirty and should she succeed in her escape plan the newspapers would obviously want pictures to document her harrowing journey, she couldn't go skulking through the woods looking like she did now, could she?

Her eyes drifted to a polished mirror in the corner and she risked a look, groaning in abject horror as she caught her reflection! Captivity was certainly not her best look, and it obviously wasn't Chanel's either, she thought dejectedly as she peeled of the ruined dress and placed it on the dais in the corner, pleased that at least her slip had held up.

"Always a silver lining." She muttered herself. "Now…if I were a bath where would I be?". She rounded the corner, letting out a sigh of relief as a small wooden tub sat in the corner of what she assumed was supposed to be the bathroom. Steam rose lazily from the water, begging her to forget all of this nonsense for a moment and simply relax. Neal snorted to herself, the very idea of being able to relax during a time like this was laughable! _Well, they do say laughter is the best medicine._ She told herself, carefully removing the slip and lowering herself into the bath.

It was small and rustic, nothing short of what she would expect from this place; but if she closed her eyes and concentrated on the heat of the water rolling over her than she could imagine she was home, in her own apartment and not here on Shutter Island with a chamber pot in the corner.

And when exactly would she be going home, she wondered, scrubbing the dirt and grime from her hair. Whenever her fake husband showed up to rescue her?

"Idiot." She scolded. Why had she done that?! And Thomas of all people! Wasn't it enough that she'd called off their engagement, she couldn't imagine he'd _love_ hearing that she had told some random stranger that they were married just to drag him into all this nonsense to save her! Thomas was a gem of a man and certainly capable of White Knight moments but even _he_ had his limits.

But that was just the thing, she had no intention at all of involving him in any of this at all. They didn't want her money, that much was obvious, and now their "king" had seemed to understand she hadn't stolen anything, so what reason would they have to want someone else to come here? Perhaps they really had taken the wrong person, maybe they had meant to grab Thomas all along! And then how could she risk his life and involve him in this? She wouldn't, which meant she was going to have to let this play out, buy her enough time to figure out how to get out of here and get home.

"I would have helped you with that if you had been willing to wait." A voice called out, rousing Neal from her plotting and nearly making her fall back into the water from fright.

"Why?" She asked, dipping her body as far under the water as she could, her heart thrumming in her chest. A woman, "elf", stood just outside the doorway, a towel in hand as she looked critically down at Neal. "I just-you know, I can manage well enough on my own, thank you." She sputtered, trying to look as calm and collected as one can when their privacy has been invaded upon. The woman raised an eyebrow, but merely nodded and placed the towel next to the tub.

"Suit yourself. " She replied, leaving Neal to herself. She sat in the tub for a few additional moments hoping to go back to her previous state of bliss but the mood was ruined and so with a great sigh Neal heaved herself out of the tub and grabbed the towel.

She padded out, wrapped in the towel and let out another muffled gasp as the woman from before tutted around the room, placing a few dresses in the armoire and tidying up here and there. Neal frowned, staring at the woman in displeasure but when it seemed she was not leaving, Neal cleared her throat, hoping that would be a subtle enough cue.

It was not.

"Um, so, thanks, but I've got it from here." Neal said finally, wrapping the towel even tighter as the woman critiqued her, frowning openly at the growing puddle of water that was collecting around Neal.

"I was assigned to assist you with what you needed and see that you are fitted with a proper attire." The woman explained, pulling out a simple crème colored dress from the armoire and laying it on the bed for Neal. "That is what I shall do. The King insisted you had an urgent letter to write as well so I have set the necessary items on your desk so that you may begin just as soon as you are ready."

"Thanks." Neal ground out, gawking at the dress. "Um, this is very nice, but … really… I can do this myself, Mrs….?"

"Gaelira."

_Of course it is, _Neal thought, taking great pains not to roll her eyes.

"Right, so, Gaelira, as I was saying, I appreciate that the king feels like this is necessary, and considering our previous circumstances, it is definitely an improvement, however-"

"Arms up." Gaelira commanded, pulling a shift over Neal's head so quickly she didn't have time to be embarrassed.

"Right… so it's nothing personal, I'm sure you're a fine…helper woman, elf…being…but I-"

"Will you be keeping your old clothing, or would you like to be rid of them?"

"What? Oh, well I'm keeping them, of course." Gaelira said nothing, the silence letting Neal know just what she thought about _that_ but she said nothing, pinching the dress between her fingers and carrying it to a basket by the door. Quickly, Neal snatched up her under garments, feeling her cheeks burning as she kicked them under the bed.

This woman could intrude upon Neal's bath, put her into a renaissance dress and see more of her than was absolutely necessary, but by all that was holy Neal was not going to let her destroy her underthings! Judging by how they dressed here, she was sure she would be needing a bra.

"Your bed is warmed now, for when you are ready to retire, which I am sure will be soon. The quill and ink are on the desk. Faervel will arrive shortly to dispatch your message."

"Oh, well, um, thank you." Neal muttered, staring down at the dress on her body and wondering if it was in fact a dress or actually a night gown.

"Anything else you will need this night."

"Well, actually…a map, if you've got one. That would be nice."

"A map?" Gaelira asked suspiciously. "Any particular map you had in mind?"

"Just a map of where we are. If that wouldn't be asking too much."

"I will ask if one can be afforded to you." She said after a few moments and Neal smiled in relief.

"That would be wonderful. Thank you!" She replied, quite happy to figure out exactly where she was! She hadn't thought it would be so easy though! With a satisfied smile Neal walked over to the desk and began to prepare to write her letter.

The quill dangled over the page as Neal waited for inspiration to strike her, the ink dripping impatiently over the parchment.

What would she say?! She certainly didn't want to drag Thomas into all of this if it was a trap, and she was quite sure it was, but it would like suspicious if she simply refused to send something.

Neal groaned inwardly, cursing herself for the millionth time for every creating such a falsehood to begin with and began to write, cursing every time the ink splotched across the page.

_**Dear Thomas, Hope all is well with you.**_

_Too casual._

_**Dear Thomas. You should have gotten insurance on the necklace. Don't come, whatever they tell you. It's a trap.**_

_Too dramatic._

_**Dear Thomas, I guess you're wondering where I've been. It's actually a funny story.**_

_Absolutely not. He definitely will not find this funny._

_**Dear Thomas, I never should have called off our engagement. I am the worst. I hope you really have forgiven me and you'll think of me well. I love you still, I think. I am an idiot.**_

"Oh my God!" Neal shouted, scribbling out the writing and glaring down at the ruined paper. "It really shouldn't be this hard!"

What in the world was she going to say?

Neal stared out the window, gazing at the forest where snow still clung to the ground. It would be spring soon, she thought absentmindedly, and wondered if she'd be gone by then…or would she still be here? Suddenly an idea struck her, and Neal grabbed the quill once more, etching out the lines and staring back in satisfaction at the picture she had drawn of a pomegranate.

They both took art history together, and the Ratto di Proserpina was a work of art everyone knew and one the both of them often talked about, their love for art drawing them closer together. She smiled at the memory, they both of them in equal parts delighted and horrified by the tale of Persephone, Hades and the pomegranate he had tricked her with.

Hades had taken Persephone away from her home and her mother, to live in the dark dank underworld with him. In her daughter's absence, her mother put a drought upon the world and eventually a compromise was struck. Persephone would spend some time with Hades in the underworld but the rest of her time with her mother. Just before Persephone left, at Hades urging, she relented to eating just one pomegranate seed. That one seed sealed her fate, and because she had eaten food from the underworld she'd have to go back.

But Neal was not going back and she knew Thomas would understand the meaning, that she'd been taking against her will but she would come back to him! She also knew he'd know not to come after her, because just as Hades tricked Persephone with the pomegranate seed this also was surely a trick.

It was a lot of assuming, Neal knew, that he'd understand, but this was her best bet. This was the only thing she could think of to get this message through without putting the both of them in danger.

A knock at the door jolted Neal out of her thoughts as she hastily stood to her feet, nearly knocking over the desk as she bumped into it, and answered the door.

"Faervel, I assume?"

"You assume correctly." An auburn-haired man said, a warm smile across his face. "And am I correct in assuming you are the human woman with the very important letter to be dispatched with the utmost haste?"

"Just the usual amount of haste is fine." Neal laughed, despite the situation. "E-mail would have been hastier but I suppose I'll have to make do."

"Well that is very generous of you, my lady." Faervel said in mock seriousness, despite not quite knowing what she meant. Neal grabbed the letter, fanning it in the air to dry it out and earning a sardonic laugh from Faervel as he eyes the numerous ink spots. "Had a bit of trouble, did you?"

"Oh, no, not at all, this is just my signature style." She quipped, folding it in halves. "This is to be delivered to Thomas McDermott, please."

"Of course. To Dale, was it?" He asked innocently, causing Neal to pause before answering.

"Yes…Dale. Yup." _Send it to Dale, send it to Timbuktu for all I care! The longer it takes you to find Thomas the more time I have to get out of here!_

"Right away then. Do not worry, my lady, it will all be sorted. Enjoy the gardens while you are here, they are beautiful, even this time of year." Fearvel said, before turning to leave. Neal nodded, closing the door as she thought about what a shame it was such a nice young man would be caught up in all this nonsense..

Still, despite how she felt, it wasn't her job to worry about it. Her job was to get out! She clambered into bed, sighing comfortably as she melted into the bed and thanking God she didn't have to spend another night in that cell.

Sure, she'd sleep here tonight, she'd rest and eat and then tomorrow she would plot her escape. An idea was already forming in her head and she was quite confident that she would be out of her in no time!

* * *

Neal knotted the last sheet, triumphantly glancing at the make shift rope and yanked it over to the balcony, trying to push all thoughts that told her this was a bad idea out of her mind. It had been three days and this idea was the best she could come up with. It was abysmal really, and she'd never tell anyone that her brilliant escape plan was literally hurling a sheet rope out the window and climbing down but, well, desperate times called for desperate measures.

With a grunt, she grabbed the blanket and hoisted it out the window, watching it tumbling out and dangle several feet shy of the ground below. Neal let out a frustrated snort as she watched her means of escape flap mockingly in the wind.

"Great." She growled, slipping out of her shoes and glancing over the balcony. _What will it be Neal, permanent imprisonment or fractured femur? Pick your poison. _She grabbed the dress, pulling it over her head, deciding it was best not to risk further injury by getting caught in the long fabric and carefully balanced her legs over the edge. The dresses that had been provided were lovely, but far too long for her dimunitive stature and would only get in her way while she scaled down the rope.

_When_ she scaled down the rope. Which would be anytime now.

She felt like a fool, hanging over a balcony in her old slip and debating on whether or not to repel down the side of the fortress using her barely sustainable rope of bedsheets. She risked another look down and gripped tighter to the balcony, resisting the urge to vomit as her head spun. _This is a _terrible_ idea, Neal! Abort mission._

"It is a long way down." A voice from behind her called and Neal whipped her head around to the familiar voice behind her.

"Stop doing that!" Neal snapped, her heart thumping in her chest. "You need a bell." Tauriel laughed, leaning casually against the door.

"It is one of the many gifts my people have been blessed with." She teased. Neal rolled her eyes.

"Right, the Elves." She said sarcastically, suddenly much more confident in her plan of escape. "What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be patrolling something. You did say that was your job here, right?"

"No." Tauriel responded, her lips thinning as she crossed her arms. "I have been delegated to safeguarding you during your stay here and ensuring you are oriented to reality."

"Guard dog, duty? A most respectable position, I'm sure."

"The King thought it fitting, given my vested interest in your well-being."

"Oh…" Neal said lamely, feeling the slightest pinch of guilt in her stomach. Tauriel had been rather helpful, and more than kind to Neal since her unexpected arrival here and to think that she'd gotten in trouble for simply vouching for her…_don't feel sorry for her, Neal, she's not your friend she's one of your captors. _

"So, while I do not regret helping you, as it was what I believed the right course of action, you can certainly understand why I cannot let you proceed in this endeavor." The Elleth explained, nodding her head toward the rope tied around the balcony.

_See, Stockholm Suzy? Captor, not friend!_

"Yea, I get that." Neal replied, shivering a bit against the cold. "But, you're not really in a position to stop me, being that you're over there and I am here, making my way down anytime."

"And yet, you remain unmoved?" Tauriel noted. "Is it because you have come to realize that your plan is unwise?"

"No…it's because I've come to realize I'm scared of heights." Neal retorted petulantly. The longer she sat up there, the longer she was started to have second thoughts. Even if she did make it to the end of the rope, she'd still have to jump several feet to the ground, not break anything, hobble to the mass expanse of forest and somehow make it through unscathed to safety. And safety, could be miles and miles away.

"Making your plan, that much more reasonable."

"_Nothing_ about any of this is reasonable!" Neal scoffed.

"You are human, you will injure yourself or worse. It is unwise and I will not allow it." The elleth replied, squaring her shoulders and preparing to intervene. Neal cocked her head to the side, daring her to try and stop her. "If you insist, please know I will have to intervene."

"Good luck!" Neal called out and suddenly she heaved herself over, fumbling for the rope.

It wasn't until she was careening through the air, that she realized what a horrible mistake she had made. Her arms felt like they would be ripped from their socket as her finally grasped the rope tight enough to hold on and she cursed herself has her body slammed against the wall, letting out a strangled gasp as she felt her grip loosen.

_Big mistake, huge mistake, crap crap crap crap crap crap crap crap._

She felt the rope slacken and her stomach dropped. Neal knew that plummeting to the ground was inevitable now. It was only a matter of time she thought morosely as she risked a look down. _Stupid, Neal, you never think anything through!_

Suddenly Tauriel leapt from the balcony, losing a roped arrow that sank into the tree and she slid down the rapidly deteriorating bedsheet.

The elleth grabbed a gob smacked Neal just as the bedsheet finally split in two, floating treacherously to the ground far below. Neal let out a shriek as they arc threw the air, finally landing safely on the ground after several heart stopping moments.

"How did you…what did you…how?!" Neal sputtered, looking from the balcony to the red headed elleth before her.

"Did I not tell you how foolish that was?" Tauriel shouted, ignoring the human's blanched expression. "How could you be so reckless? Had I not intervened you would have died! Do you not realize this?"

"What you did…that's not humanely possible…people can't do that…"

"Have you nothing to say for yourself? Why could you not simply wait for your husband to arrive?" She asked the woman, but Neal heard none of it. Was it possible that she was simply physically fit? And yet that wouldn't explain how she was able to carry both herself and Neal all while holding onto to a roped arrow.

It was impossible.

Neal tugged on the rope around the arrow, frowning as it gave way easily and crumbled to the ground.

"There is no way this tiny rope carried both of us. That is not possible." She said, more to herself than anything. Her eyes traveled back up to the balcony, the last remnants of her bedsheet rope still tied to the columns and waving in the air, like a white flag of defeat.

"It is Hithlain, a gift from our Lorien kin." Tauriel explained, grabbing the rope and coiling it up in frustration. Safe guarding the woman would be a much harder task than she realized, and she'd only been out of her cell for two days! "Were you going to expl-

"Tauriel!" A shout rang out, and Tauriel closed her eyes, letting out a heavy sigh as she turned from the women to face her King. Thranduil and his guard rode up, armed to the teeth with swords, bows and arrows and plates of armor.

"I'm gonna throw up." Neal moaned, clutching onto the tree for support. "Is that an Elk? Is he really riding a whole Elk?" She asked incredulously. _Of course, he is. Nothing says drama like riding an Elk. _

"Be silent, please." She implored, turning back to the king and bowing. Neal raised an eyebrow as the rode up, staring at Neal in varying states of shock.

"What is the meaning of this?" Thranduil asked, voice thundering through the woods.

"It is nothing, my lord, I am simply ensuring that your…guest is as safe as possible during her stay here."

"And _this_ is how you ensure her safety?" he asked, not at all convinced as he settled back into a seating position. Neal's eyes traveled over one of the largest Elk she'd ever seen, to the armor that adorned the King, and suddenly catching her reflection in it she could feel the heat rising across her body at the realization. She was still in her slip.

_ Kill me. Just do it now._ She thought, inwardly groaning.

The King nodded his head to the soldier next to him, speaking in the same unfamiliar language Neal had heard before and suddenly they continued on their way, each one giving Neal an odd or appalled glance as they walked by. She tilted her up higher, trying to feign indifference, but the action only forced her to meet the gaze of the king.

"I am afraid I had to intervene in such a manner, my lord. It was that or let her injure herself." Tauriel explained. "I did not think her husband would find that suitable."

Neal's nostrils flared in embarrassment as the Thranduil's eyes bored into her amber ones, only the smallest perceptible trace of amusement in them.

"Of course," He said, an edge to his voice that made Neal believe he and the captain would be having more words about this later. "Faervel has not yet returned with word from your husband. It seems he is more difficult to find than you let on."

Neal cleared her throat, bringing herself to her full height.

"Well I assume it's because he's out looking for me. He's got to be worried sick."

"As any good husband would." He replied, an edge of disbelief to his voice. "Still, it is my hope you will inform me the moment he has sent a reply so that we might welcome him properly."

Neal huffed, not really sure of what his idea of a _proper_ welcome entailed. Still, she'd go along playing his game as long as it took until her next escape opportunity. Which, she realized as her eyes traveled back to the balcony and the horde of armed soldiers riding back, was sure no to be for quite some time.

"I trust you have found the clothing I have provided for you suitable?" He asked, critically appraising her current attire, and she fought hard against the blush she was certain was beginning to creep up across her neck and face.

"It was a bit long." She said, and could have sworn she heard Tauriel's horrified groan. Thranduil raised in eyebrow, an amused sniff leaving his mouth.

"Well, perhaps we can have more of…this commissioned for you, if it would make you more comfortable?" He asked, waving a hand lazily over her.

_Please, let the ground swallow me whole._

"Uh, no, that won't be necessary." She said, far too quickly, suddenly mortified as the corners of his mouth quirked up. _Is he messing with me? Really? _"I'll adapt."

"Well then," He said, unclasping the cloak around his shoulders and handing it to her, the fabric hanging from his fingertips. "If you would permit the inconvenience of the additional layers…there is only so much shock and scandal my people could handle before they start to protest your stay here."

Neal nodded, grabbing the cloak, surprised by how heavy it felt, and draped it over her shoulders, staring at the Elk and wishing it would kick her in the head and end this already.

"Thank you, we certainly wouldn't want to shock the people." Neal said, clearing her throat. An awkward silence filled the air as Neal shifted from one foot to the next, her bare toes sinking into the ground and then finally Thranduil spoke again.

"Tauriel, you may find Legolas and assist him with the rest of today's training. I assume that you will find that task less taxing for you?"

"Yes, my lord." She said with a nod, turning on a heel and walking away from them faster then she had ever seen anyone.

_Lucky her._

"For what it's worth…it wasn't really her fault. I was very determined to escape." Neal explained, hoping that would abate the guilt she felt as causing Tauriel any trouble. Of course, she wasn't sure why she even felt guilty, but there was a part of her that quite liked the red head…even if she was insane.

"What reason would you have to escape if your husband is coming?" Thranduil asked, raising an eyebrow as he regarded her with a satisfactory glint in his eye. _Crap. _He had her and he knew it. Neal's mouth opened and shut, gaping like a fish before finally summoning a retort.

"False imprisonment is my reason." She snapped, pulling the cloak tighter around her, as if the very action could keep those striking eyes of his from boring into her soul. It was unsettling how he seemed to read her so easily, but then again perhaps she was simply just that expressive.

"You are no prisoner, as I've stated before you are a gu-"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time, a guest." She interrupted

"You realize it is not in your best interest to constantly interrupt me in such a way." Thranduil said his voice growing harder and Neal took a step back, far too familiar with his anger than she wanted to be.

"Apologies," She added, sticking her tongue in her cheek before speaking again. "You want to ensure I'm safely home, blah blah blah."

"What is blah, blah, blah? Are you implying you are bored with the repetitive expressions of our concern for your welfare, Neal Carter?" He asked, mouthing the words silently to himself and Neal couldn't help but chuckle, surprised he had really never heard the phrase.

"Yes, it's become rather redundant. Try mixing up a few of those gilded lies a little more, why don't you." She retorted, raising her chin a little higher after giving him a curt nod. "Now if you excuse me, it's gotten a bit chilly so I'll be on my way. Thank you for the cloak, I'll have it returned as soon as I am properly dressed." She said, pretending she didn't see his infuriating smirk from atop that giant animal

Neal couldn't believe he was truly finding one of the most embarrassing moments of her life comical. She turned, walking in whatever direction she faced and made it several paces before his mocking tone called her name once more.

"Neal Carter, you are going the wrong way." He said, pointing in the direction of the palace. Neal huffed, turning to glance in the direction he pointed and blinked several times before shaking her head. It was nearly an _exact_ replica of the site. Newer, and by far more well maintained, but there was no mistaking the similarities!

_This is getting weird. _She thought to herself, her mind running wild with questions. Wouldn't the team have found an exact replica to their dig site if it had been nearby? They would have had to! It wasn't a difficult thing to find!

"Do you intend to walk the distance barefoot?" Thranduil asked, sounding a bit bored now as she was distracted by her thoughts.

"It is not far." She replied, continuing on, "I'll manage just fine thank you."

"Then allow me to accompany you back. I would hate to see you injured, or lost."

"You're being oddly hospitable this morning." Neal sniffed, turning a suspicious gaze at him as she continued her walk. His moods blew so hot and cold in just the short time she knew him, it made being around him rather dizzying! She couldn't help but pity those who spent all of their time in his presence! Was he always like this?

"Have you not heard of the fabled hospitality of Elves?" He asked, sliding off his mount with more grace than should have been realistic.

"No, because they're not real." She muttered quietly to herself.

"Oh, forgive me, I forgot, you feign ignorance." Neal frowned, unaware that he had heard her. Perhaps she had spoken louder than she thought she had.

"No, I am simply stating a fact. There are no such thing as Elves. I mean …yeah, this is America so believe what you want, but…I mean this isn't healthy. You realize that, right?" She asked, suddenly quite serious. How far would these people draw the line in their delusions before they realize they had gone too far, especially since kidnapping didn't see to cause a stir. "Besides, we can't exactly call this hospitality can we."

"No, I suppose that is more Lord Elrond forte, I will concede to that. We do not have many…guests in the Greenwood." Neal sniffed, not finding it difficult to imagine why.

"And this Lord Elrond, he thinks he's an Elf too?" Now it was Thranduil's turn to scoff.

"He is half-elven."

"Oh, of course." She nodded, feigning understanding, and then leaned closer. "Is that why he is supposed to be nicer?" Thranduil let out an uncharacteristic laugh and Neal couldn't help the returning smile.

"I can be very nice when the occasion calls for it." He replied, giving her another wolfish smile. "Allow me to escort you back inside and I will demonstrate."

"No way, not while you're over there smiling like the Cheshire Cat. It is highly suspicious, and I've had my fair share of surprises for today thank you." She responded, staring back out into the forest, regretfully watching the sun began to sink behind the tree line. Even if she did manage to make it before night fall, she couldn't be sure she'd survive a night in the woods with no supplies and dressed as she was now. It really hadn't been her best plan, she hated to admit.

"Well, then I shall promise, no smiling of any sort." He replied, his expression growing quite serious. Neal let out a groan and rolled her eyes.

"I'm not quite sure which is worse."

"You are impossible to please, Neal Carter. Your husband must be a champion among men."

"Must be." Neal mumbled, walking ahead and wincing as her feet dug into the mud. She knew he was more than aware of how uncomfortable she was but at least he was allowing her her pride. "Sorry, I'm usually much more charming outside of captivity."

"Oh, I am quite sure. As charming as a spider." He retorted, his eyes going back to the tree line, as if the very words would summon the beasts.

"You truly have a way with words. Another gift of your people?" She quipped, moving around a particularly gruesome set of rocks buried in the path ahead of her.

"No, that one is unique to me." He replied, a hint of a smile just barely gracing his lips. "Have the maps you requested been helpful in aiding your escape?"

"Not in the least." Neal muttered, frowning as she recalled the few words she could make out, all seeming foreign to her…Dale, Erebor…what kind of names were those? "Perhaps a world map?"

"You have been provided with a complete map of Middle Earth. I cannot imagine anything else that would be more accommodating."

"Perhaps, I don't know, a map of America? I just need to know the location so my husband will know where to find me."

"You have been given the location countless times, Neal Carter, and yet you seem to not find it suitable."

"Because it's _not_ believable." She sniffed, stopping short and staring at him. Neal wasn't sure how much more of this make believe she could take! It was one thing when it was playful banter it was another to be reminded that this was very real to _them._ Elves, Middle Earth, it all sounded like a fantasy novel the kids in her old foster home would read. What was it called, Lord of the Rings? But this wasn't like that. That had orcs, and goblins, and dragons and…dwarves...and Elves. "You said…this was called the Greenwood? Not…not _Mirkwood_ right?"

Thranduil's face suddenly hardened as he looked down on her, nostrils flaring in distaste.

"There are those to ignorant to know better that might call it that, but never in the presence of it's King." He replied imperiously.

"Sorry, no offence was meant, I um…you said Thror is a Dwarf? You wouldn't happen to know a Gimli too would you?"

"The name is unfamiliar."

"Just clearing some things up… are the names Aragorn, Gandalf and Legolas familiar to you then?" Neal asked, her voice barely above a whisper. This was not possible…surely there was a better explanation for her current circumstance, there _had_ to be! That was just a story…a fantasy novel.

"Why?" Thranduil asked, his voice icy and his eyes hard. Neal didn't miss the change in demeanor, but suddenly she felt lightheaded.

"I think…I think I hit my head." She stammered, reaching her hand up to lightly graze the back of her head, searching for any areas of tenderness. "I need to lie down now."

"Yes, perhaps that would be best." The King responded, regarding her once more with his usual suspicious detachment.

His eyes followed her, and she felt his stares drill into as she made her way back inside but at the moment that was the least of her concerns!

She couldn't really be considering the possibility that she was in a fictional world, could she?! That would be insane, right? Certifiably! But what other explanation did she have, other than that they were simply crazy, but they certainly didn't _seem_ crazy compared to her right now!

No, she needed to look at the maps again, she needed to think this though. There had to be a more rational explanation. There had to be.

She was not in a fictional world.

* * *

A blood curdling moan shook Neal from her sleep, and she blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the dark. A moment more and she heard the screams again, and there was no mistaking the sounds of a dying man.

With her heart beating wildly in her chest Neal flung the comforter back from her bed, grabbing her robe and peaking her head out the door. There was no one there, no guards posted as they normally were, only the muffled shouts and moans of the injured person and those who must have been trying to help.

She took one more look around before padding out into the torchlight cavern, the ambience mixed with his screams making her shudder but she had to know! What were they doing to that man?! Were there others like her here, others that were taken from their homes? Were they torturing him? Was she next?

_Elves aren't supposed to torture people, right? Ugh, I should have read the books when they were offered to me. I'm an idiot._

She swallowed hard, following the sound until finally she stopped just outside the door where an array of people moved hurriedly about helping to lay the eviscerated man on what looked like an operating table.

She could hardly stop the bile rising from her throat, but once her eyes drifted to the face of Faervel she leaned over, vomiting up the entire contents of her stomach in the corner.

"Get her out of here!" Thranduil shouted in disgust, rounding the corner and storming into the room. **"What happened?"** He asked, glaring at Tauriel.

"**He and the other two were ambushed by Orcs on their way back from Dale. They were coming back to report they had not found the woman's husband when they were attacked. Faervel took the worst of it."**

"**Have we lost any?"** Thranduil asked, his face creased with concern, the elvish language pouring out of his mouth at a dizzying rate.

"**One, my lord, Iondor. Legolas and I, along with the rest of the guard were able to drive off the rest of the horde."**

"**And Legolas? He is unharmed?"**

"**Yes, he is with Fendir, who is quite…unwell, as you can imagine."**

Anger was boiling inside of the elven King as he gazed down at his trusted emissary. This should not have happened! Those three were sent to deliver a message, that was it! And to find out that it was all for not! He could barely speak! He knew the moment he opened his mouth, poison would spew out.

"What did you do to him?" Neal choked out, leaning against the wall as tears fell from her face. "He was nice, why did…what happened? What did you do?!"

Thranduil whirled on the woman who was growing more and more upset with each passing moment and lead her out of the room.

"Tell me your husband is in Dale, as you have said." He whispered, his voice tight and barely controlled as he towered over her. Neal didn't speak, her head turning back from the room to the king. "Speak! Is your husband in Dale or is he not? Answer the question!"

"I-I don't know!" She stammered. She was certain she was about to vomit again as she grasped tightly to the wall, feeling that her legs would give out at any moment. "What happened to him?"

"Orcs." The King hissed. "An ambush while they returned from Dale, a mission sent to find _your husband_."

"Oh my God." Neal choked out.

"He was not there. They had heard of no one by that name so I will ask you once more, Neal Carter, was your husband in Dale?"

"I don't…I don't know. I think so."

"You _think_ so?! One of my people died today and all you can over is you think so?" Thranduil scoffed. Every time her looked at the trembling woman before he grew more or more enraged! How could she be so senseless? So utterly unaware, it was as if… realization dawned on him and he felt the blood rush out of his face. "Tell me, do you have a husband at all? " He breathed.

It wasn't often one got away with lying to him, especially not a human, but _this_ woman…this human woman had truly done it. He would have been impressed if he wasn't using everything he had not to come unhinged. The woman's jaw dropped, telling him everything he needed to know.

"I-I …Thomas is real, he's a real person I swear it! I swear!" She shouted, hands to her face as she glanced back at Faervel who had now gone silent, quite possible forever. "This isn't real, this isn't happening, it's not real! Orcs aren't real, Middle Earth isn't real! What is happening?" She cried, clasping her head in her hands as she sunk to the floor.

"Get up! I am finished with this! I will have the truth! No more of these lies, these games! I will have the truth now, at whatever cost."

"Thomas is a real person, he is…but he's not my husband." She sobbed out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I didn't know. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry. This is insane." Panic began to overwhelm her as her vision tunneled. She was going to go crazy if she could not come to terms with what was right in front of her but how could she? It was asking her to believe the impossible!

Thranduil stood stock still, nostrils flaring. He couldn't move, couldn't think. If he concentrated on anything else other than breathing he would lose all rational sense, he was sure of it. She had put his people in danger, one had died and the other would surely be dead by morning and that loss was starting to gnaw at his heart! It was his fault. This was his fault. He had foolishly taken her at her word, let her manipulate him and it had cost these ellon their lives. He would not make that mistake again

"Get out of my sight." He whispered, his voice cracking from the effort of concealing his rage.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I' so sorry, please you have to help me, please help me. I-"

"GO!" He roared, no longer able to control herself. "You dare ask me for help?! Has that not what we have been doing these past three days? We have done more than enough to help _you_ and we are finished. Get out of my sight, I want you gone. Is that clear?"

"Where do I go?" She whispered, pulling her robe tighter as she stood to her feet, desperately trying to keep her body from shaking. "I need to get home…I need to go home, please. Please."

"Where you go is none of my concern." He seethed. "You will be escorted to where you were found and then you are to never step foot into my woods again. Is that understood?"

Neal could barely manage a nod as she was quickly led away. She begged, now, she pleaded with him to let her stay but all she received in return was ice.

"I'm sorry! Please I'm so sorry! Please forgive me." She sobbed, the weight of their deaths a burden she wasn't able to carry. She had never meant for this to happen! None of this was supposed to happen! What would she do now?

Neal barely noticed where she was being lead, she hardly cared until suddenly she stared into the familiar labyrinth ahead of her. She began to shake, furiously wiping tears from her face as she stared down into the void.

"Is there no other way out of here?"

"This is where we found you." The guard answered simply devoid of emotion. Quickly, he grabbed a knife from his belt and handed it to her. "It would not do to send you away with something to protect yourself with." He explained.

"Thank you." She whispered, gingerly grabbing the hilt of the blade. She had no idea how to even use this, and against what? "I know it won't matter much…but I'm so sorry…I did not know this would happen."

"No one can know what will happen. It is not your fault, the darkness that invades our land grows bolder with each passing day. If not them it would have been someone else." He explained. "King Thranduil cares for his people…at times his fear and grief manifest as anger, but come morning he will see reason. Live through this night and I am sure he will send out a search for you."

Neal was not so certain, but the guard's kindness was everything she needed right now and with a small nod she stepped forward, back into where it all started.

She walked slowly, one foot in front of the other, holding the knife out in front of her face. Every amplified sound was a potential threat, every shadow an enemy but as what felt like hours passed Neal was less afraid now. It seemed familiar, and she was no longer worried about being lost. What did it matter? If what she feared were true she'd never truly go home.

Eventually she sat down, fatigue hitting her harder than she expected. She'd have to rest here, just for the night she decided. Then she would move in the morning. Shivering she pulled the robe tighter around her, curling into herself as she silently begged for sleep. Eventually though, it did come, just as silently as the tears that fell from her eyes.

* * *

"Neal Carter? Oh my God, Neal Carter!" a voice shouted. "Hey, we found her! We found her she's over here!"

"You're kidding? I thought for sure she'd be…" The officer stopped, looking to his partner and then back to the now roused woman who blinked at the in confusion. "Well, radio in to that McDermott fellow he's-"

"He's here." The other officer said with a smile, as the frenzied man barreled through. "I thought we told you to get some rest Mr. McDermott?"

Thomas ignored them, running like a mad man toward Neal.

"Thomas?" She croaked, wincing and trying to shade her eyes against the too bright flashlights. "What are you doing here?"

"I'll let dispatch know, they'll be happy for some good news." The other officer said, bringing up his radio and calling in for an ambulance. After being missing for over a month this woman would surely need medical!

"I'm here, Neal. You're home ok, you're safe, you're safe. You're home."

"Home?" She muttered, staring down at her lap and the elven robes she still wore. "On Earth, right?"

"Of course," Thomas chuckled, holding her face carefully in his hands. "Where else would you be?"

_That's a good question._

**A/N: OK! Hope you all enjoyed that and are interested to see what will happen next for Neal and Thranduil. Please review and let me know what you think! **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello! Here we are for chapter 5, hope you enjoy! Just a reminder that this is, obviously, pretty AU, and in this story the movie doesn't exist. Just a note.**

**A huge thank you to: Skepticalfox, leward1992, tadah2 (good catch, my bad! Thank you!), Camelotgirl17, totomax, KyloRen'sgirl213, HannahRe and Mediocre Dunces!**

* * *

"They think I'm crazy." Neal moaned, leaning against the police officer's desk, her head in her hands. "Ugh, God, maybe I am!

"No, they don't." Thomas said, rubbing her back encouragingly. "They have to ask a lot of questions, it's their job."

"Really? Did they have to giggle like little girls when I gave them that picture?"

"To be fair, that sketch you drew really did look like Lee Pace."

"It's what the guy looked like!" Neal growled. "I drew what he looked like! It's not my fault he has Lee Pace's face!"

"None of this is your fault, Neal." Thomas gently replied. "Trust the process. We'll find who did this to you." Neal shook her head, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over. She was tired of crying.

She was tired of answering questions, she was tired of the florescent lights and the crappy coffee, the hard chair, the ugly green sweat suit and shirt they'd given her after taking her nightshirt, and the skeptical looks of the officers that were supposed to be helping her. She was just tired.

To be fair they _were_ trying despite Neal not giving them much to go on. What was there to say really? _"Sorry I've been missing for over a month and some change, I was somehow whisked away to a fake world where I was kept prisoner for _not_ stealing anything. No, I am not drugs."_ Yes, she imagined that would go over just as well as her sketching. It was for that reason she had purposely not given the police anymore information that she absolutely had to which resulted in a very frustrating and fruitless experience for all of them.

"This is such a mess." She moaned. "I just want to go home. Do I even still have a home?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get that." Thomas said with a weary sigh of his own. He'd been by her side ever since she'd been found, in the hospital, under the florescent lights and through every crappy cup of coffee; he'd been there holding her hand the whole time. "Look, I'll go see if we can speed this a long or finish this another day, get you home. Ok? And yes, you still have a home. Helen made sure they rent was paid through you're account but we weren't sure…" His sentence trailed off, not able to bring himself to finish the thought as he ran his hands through his disheveled hair.

Neal watched at him, resisting the urge to run her hands through it. All that time wanting to tell him how she felt and now here she was so close she could touch him. He did look tired though, she noted, glancing at the darkened circles under his eyes, the growing beard because he obviously hadn't bothered to shave, the unkempt clothing…he looked tired. He looked stressed and relieved…he looked like he's been looking for her, waiting for her. Tears began to well up and she rapidly blinked them away.

"Thank you."

"They'll find them, Neal, ok? It's gonna be alright, you're safe now." He added once more before getting up and ambling over to the police officer, scratching the stubble along his neck.

"Ok." She whispered, staring down at her rejected sketches of Thranduil, Tauriel, the nice guard whose knife was in evidence…_I want that back actually…Oh this is stupid! You're wasting everyone's time and resources! They will never find him._

There were really only two ways that this could pan out and she knew it wouldn't end in the police arresting anyone who took her on that magical mystery tour. She was either going to get locked up and declared insane or this would be a cloud hanging over her head forever! She just wanted to forget the whole disaster and pick up the pieces of her life! She wanted to…she wanted to…well she didn't really know what she wanted right now, but she knew she wasn't going to be able to just pick back up where she left off. It all seemed so silly now, so meaningless.

She knew she wasn't the same person that she had been, not after what she'd been through or what she'd seen. Bile rose up in her again and she choked it down, the image or Faervel's body lying on the table pushing itself back to the surface.

_Stop! Stop it, Neal!_

She shouted to herself. Running a hand through her tousled hair she grabbed her coffee and chugged it, hoping to wash away the taste of guilt and vomit with it. She frowned into the cup, the mud colored liquid making her think of the cell and she quickly pushed it away in disgust. It was cold anyway. _That's it,_ she thought grabbing the sketches and shoving them into the pocket of her sweatshirt, and pushed through the doors.

She needed air. She needed to leave. Hell, what she needed was to know that she _could _leave. It was just too much right now. It was all too much! The cool night air hit her in the face and it felt as if the air rushed back into her lungs. She took two gulping breaths for good measure, nodding to the only other person outside, puffing a cigarette. She inhaled deeply, the smell stirring up a familiar longing. _No, you quit! Now is not the time to get crazy._

"You are fine." She muttered to herself. "You're fine. Get it together, Neal. Just breathe. In and out. In and out."

"If you're going to keep talking to yourself I'm gonna go back in side." The man muttered, flicking the ash off his cigarette. Neal shot him a glaring look "I'm kind of going through something right now, dude, so, like, I need the quiet."

"Oh, really? You're going through something?" Neal snapped, running her hands through her hair. "Well I was kidnapped, so top that, huh! Kidnapped by _Elves_ and taken to a fictional world straight out of a frickin story, so how's that for going through something?!"

"Crazy bitch." The man muttered, tossing his cigarette and heading back inside.

"Oh, that's nice! Really mature, your parents must be so proud!" She shouted, pulling the green sweatshirt tighter around her and leaning back against the cement wall, unbothered by the cold that seeped through the fabric. To be fair, she did sound crazy…it was all crazy and how was she going to explain this and expect to be treated like a sane rational woman. "Stupid Elves!"

_You _do_ sound crazy, Neal. You sound psychotic. _

With a relenting sigh, she pulled out the sketches, running her fingers over the pencil lines of an all too familiar face. She shouldn't be feeling guilty. Not over_ him_, not over Faervel, not over Tauriel.

But she did.

Knowing what she knew now, about where she had been the whole time, it changed everything! She never would have said or done half of the things she had done had she known!

"God, he really does look like Lee Pace." she scoffed, pushing the drawing back into her pocket.

How had she not known? There were so many glaring and obvious signs, how had she not known! Wasn't there a whole fan base, an entire book series? She'd never read it but still, she should have picked up on it sooner! And to know now he really had been trying to protect his people… Neal snorted, well he'd also been an ass and he knew it, but his intentions might have been for the good of his people. She probably did seem pretty squirrely, all things considering.

_I guess I would have been suspicious too._

But it was over now. So, what happened next? Now that she'd never have to see them or deal with that King or those people again. Would she just go back? Does life just go back to normal? The police would never find Thranduil because he technically didn't exist and the case would grow cold sooner or later. She was her own boss, so she wouldn't have to worry about getting her job back, but did she really want to go back to event planning?

Neal kicked a rock, watching torpidly as it skipped across the pavement. That was a big fat no, if she was being honest. She never really loved it. She loved _art_, and art history; she would have been happy painting and working for the museum all the rest of her days but art was not paying the bills and she'd never earn the kind of money she made event planning at the museum! She hated to admit it but the money outweighed her passion and she eventually quite her internship at the museum and through herself full force into event planning.

Thomas had been so disappointed, she knew it, saying that she was wasting her talent for money and he was right. The difference was, Thomas had grown up with money and loving parents and a stable home. He never had to worry what he'd eat for dinner that night, or if his clothing smelled like trash bags or if he'd even go back to the same house that night. Money didn't hold that same kind of allure for him because he had it, Neal didn't.

But that was then, it felt like lightyears ago and she didn't quite feel the same, maybe it was thinking she was going to die that made her reassess what she had valued, or maybe she was just tired of it all, who could say? Either way, she knew for sure she didn't want to go back to her old life, something had to change.

So, what would she do then? Paint? Go back to college? _Hard pass. _She sniffed, her head turning back through to glance through the set of glass doors, a frazzled Thomas shaking his head at her as he bounded through the halls.

"Don't just disappear like that, Neal! Give me a heads up before you Houdini out of here, will ya?" He shouted, running his hands through his hair, the stress he felt wildly apparent. "So, they said they've got all they need, I can take you home and they'll call you if they need anything else. You ok?"

"I don't know." She said quietly, unsure how to pinpoint exactly how it was she was feeling. Relieved? Angry? Tired? Scared? Sad? Guilty? Elated?

She had no idea, and she had a feeling it would be awhile before she could really say what it was, but she knew she would be ok. It would take some time, but she would be.

* * *

**3 years later**

Neal let out a low breath, ignoring the shaking of her hands as she turned the car off, sitting in the seat for just a moment longer. She was early and not really eager to start the day just yet. Instead she contented herself to listening to her music, and sipping her coffee, revealing as the heat of it snaked its way through her.

A few more calming breaths, and several more sips of coffee and Neal could make out the sun peeking out over the forest edge bathing the sky in dusty pinks and brilliant oranges. It could have been a lovely sight, and were it anywhere else she would have considered it a perfect morning.

Her phone buzzed suddenly, interrupting her music, immediately followed by another message.

_**You here? Need you to meet with board. Need plans for opening night and paintings to be finished. Where are you?**_Was the first message from Garrett, Neal noted with a roll of her eyes.

_**Garrett is panicking. Best to avoid him when he comes in. Btw, you don't have to come, I'll tell him you're sick and you can video conference the meeting. Let me know.**_ The second was from Thomas, checking up on her for what felt like the billionth time.

_**I'm here and caffeinated, so obviously fine. Send a cart, too much to carry**__._ She texted back to Thomas, ignoring Garrett's message. She knew Thomas would relay the message and she wasn't nearly caffeinated enough to deal with Garrett, their new boss _quite_ yet.

With a relenting sigh, she stepped out of the car, shivering as the early morning chill cooled her breath and popped the trunk carefully pulling out the several canvases, additional paints and brushes. Grunting in annoyance, she balanced the assortment on her hips, then under her chin and finally placed them back in the trunk, all in an effort to hold everything and her coffee at the same time.

Finally, she gave up, opting to sip her coffee until the headlights of the golf cart could be seen ahead. She waited a moment longer until the cart made its way out of the tree's and a familiar tousled mop of hair with it.

She waved Thomas over, chuckling as his arms spread wide in annoyance until finally he pulled the cart over to her car.

"You couldn't have walked?" He asked, shouting over the whir of the engine.

"It's a whole mile!"

"Good for the heart."

"Too much to carry."

''It wouldn't be too much if you put down the coffee." Thomas argued, standing up to help her load the canvas into the back. "You drink too much of that stuff. I bet that's not even your first cup. You're gonna have a heart attack!"

"We all have our vices." She shrugged, not willing to mention that it was not actually her first cup but her third. "Do you think we should strap these down? I have a lot and I don't want them to fall off on the way to the site." She asked, frowning as she added the last painting and another roll of brushes.

"I mean, I will if you want me to but I think they'll be fine." Thomas said with a shrug, closing the back doors and hoping back into the driver's seat. "Garrett's pretty eager to talk to you. He's been calling me all morning asking when you'll be here. _He's _not even here, won't be until later, so that's really great."

"Well at least you don't have to be bothered by him, we can get some work done until he shows up."

"Yeah, when he shows up with his '_board' _for a '_VIP tour'_, comprised of rich college buddies in their wing tips and barely legal women on their arms who can't even spell Elf let alone summon up the brain cells to ask a decent question." He grunted, glancing over at Neal to see if she had laughed. "Garrett doesn't even know enough about the city to answer any questions if he did. I really don't think he realizes how important this whole thing is but if I have to ask him to put on gloves before he handles the artifacts one more time, I swear to God I'm going to clock him. I really will, Neal. I'll do it."

"You're not going to hit him." Neal laughed, rolling her eyes as she pulled up her dark hair into a ponytail. "And he does think the city is important, he wouldn't have dropped all that money to pick up the project if he didn't."

"He only did it because of the press it got from your reappearance! "

"Well next time I'll try to stay missing, save us all the trouble." Neal quipped, taking another hearty sip of coffee.

"Not funny. Not even a little." Thomas remarked, leading the golf cart back in through the forest, swearing as they went over a large tree root that jostled the canvases in the back. "I just can't stand the guy. He thinks he knows how to do my job just because he's paying the bill and he's treating the whole thing like an amusement park! This is an incredible historical, _groundbreaking_ discovery. _Elves?! _Who knew right? Not Garrett! But he's talking to the press and journals like he's the one that spent months digging and scraping for broken pottery and candle fixtures when he doesn't have a freaking clue, he just wants to show off!"

"Yeah, well you wouldn't have anything to complain about if he didn't."

"Oh, don't defend him!"

"I'm not, he's a pain in the ass, he really is but he did us both a huge favor. I owe him, so if he wants a personal coordinator for this place, I'll do it. I'll make as many contacts and paint as many pictures as he wants, just so long as he keeps believing I'm a genius and I'm not painting them based off of real people." Neal said, tossing back the rest of the coffee and tapping the bottom of the cup to get the last few drops.

"Yeah, I know. He did us a favor, I just wish he wouldn't rub my damn nose in it every chance he got." He relented, pausing the car momentarily to let a squirrel scurry by before resuming the drive. Neal rubbed her hands together, focusing on breathing. "I still don't know why you want to keep all this a secret. After what we found, no one would think you were crazy. I mean you have proof. What you've been through…_that's_ something."

"I don't have proof, Thomas, I have a night shirt and a blade. Hardly a compelling argument for landing in Middle Earth. Besides it still doesn't explain how the Elves winded up here anyway."

"I've got a theory…but it's pretty far-fetched… Man, I wish you would have taken notes or something, grabbed so photos, done an interview, something."

"Oh yea, sorry I forgot I was supposed to collect data in between panicking about being kidnapped and being locked in a cell for weeks." She snapped. "I've told you before, it wasn't some whirlwind adventure, it was awful and not something I want dredged up all the time."

"Yeah, ok, ok, I get it. Good to know we can laugh about it."

"Wow!"

"I'm kidding!" Thomas said, one hand held up in mock defense, but when he realized she wasn't laughing he let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yea, hey, look I'm sorry. Not funny…really not funny. I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

"No, no it's not." He admitted. "Are you doing ok, with all this, being back here all the time? Really? I know it can't be easy."

"I'm fine, Thomas. It's fine."

"Great." Thomas grunted, scratching the stubble on his chin. He'd have to find a way to make up for that.

Neal leaned back in the seat, staring at the empty cup in annoyance. She wished everyone would stop acting like she was going to fall apart at the seams every time _the incident_ was mentioned. It had been three years, she was over it, why couldn't everyone else be? _Probably because Garrett won't let the damn story drop already!_ Neal rolled her eyes, glancing back out at the forest that lined the bumpy dirt road that lead to the site. _Ass_.

Garrett would milk the story of her disappearance for all it was worth, and he believed he had every right to. Any publicity for the sight was publicity for him.

More publicity for him meant more investors and researchers and employees to continue on the work. So what if he had to use Neal's misfortune? As long as he earned back the money he paid for buying the place. After all, it was in small part her fault he'd had to buy it at all.

Shortly after Neal disappeared the museum, already unhappy with the lack of progress Thomas and his team had made, decided to drop the sight. They didn't want that kind of bad press that surrounds a missing person or the inevitable lawsuits and insurance increases, leaving Thomas and his entire team out of work. In a matter of days Thomas had lost his best friend and passion project and nearly his position and credibility with it!

That was until Neal was found, beyond of logic or reasoning and then suddenly _everyone_ wanted to know Neal, why she'd been taken, who had done it and why she seemed not to have remembered anything but the face of her captor.

Of course, she did remember, all too well in fact, every detail and it was killing her. Eventually however, she did tell Thomas everything. He reacted about as well as could be expected and Neal had showed him the only things she'd had from that world as proof but that hardly seemed to sway him! The familiar markings on the blade caught his eye, though he made no mention of it to her and Neal wasn't entirely sure he even believed her at all; not until Garrett showed up.

Garrett was …a lot of things, a millionaire with an old money attitude and a mentality that anything could be bought if you offered enough, a mentality Neal shared at one point too. He was assumptive, self-important, the life of his social group, with an incredible fortune to boot. He fancied himself a real Jay Gatsby type and took every opportunity he had to show off just how well he'd done for himself. He was also, apparently, a closet history buff and had already been a benefactor of the museum Thomas was employed under and for whatever reason he was _very interested_ in the site's continued research, especially after news broke of Neal's month-long reappearance.

After a year of negotiations, contracts and lawyers Garrett bought it from the museum, taking over the insurance payments and giving Thomas the means to continue the research with only one caveat: He had to involve the girl who went missing here.

He claimed his motives were purely altruistic, saying he'd heard she quit her job and fell on hard times and simply wanted to help, but Neal never felt like that was entirely genuine. Perhaps it was the way he always pried, asking her questions about her time with little regard for her personal privacy, or the way he looked at her paintings but he gave her the creeps and Neal wasn't exactly keen on accepting any position from him, despite how badly she needed the job.

And she did need it.

Neal's return back to society hadn't really been the welcome she had hoped for. All that time spent out of work had really nosedived her company. She'd thankfully garnered a lot of savings but the contacts she'd worked so hard for had moved on to other people. Luckily though, all was not lost, she was still able to retain Helen and after a year's hiatus Neal decided she was over LA and decided to move her company back to Colorado.

Her therapist suggested that visiting the site once more would be cathartic, cleansing and all that, but Neal hadn't really cared for any of that, maintain that that she was quite fine, really, she was. She did however, want to be closer to Thomas, and her home and further away from her old life. Her heart wasn't in it anymore and she needed to downgrade her life tremendously.

Though, with that move came the need for housing and a new job and as much as she wanted to paint, as talented as she was, it was not as profitable as she'd hoped. She was burning through her savings and with no other career prospects she fell back on what she knew.

So, as Neal spent the year planning weddings and Ninetieth birthday's and Retirement parties and all other menial jobs that paled in comparison to the work she used to do it should have felt like a blessing when Thomas called with Garrett's offer.

His offer was to have her employed primarily as an Event's Coordinator. She'd handle the press and public's information about the opening of _The Secret_ _City of Elves_, as he would eventually call it, ensure that it would go off without a hitch, and plan the appropriate Gala openings and events that would draw up all sorts of interest and outside benefactors. And, with Neal as the face of it, Garrett was confident they would get a lot of attention and Thomas would finally get the credit he deserved…just as soon as they found the answers they needed.

Neal had, initially declined the offer but her dwindling back account and some solid council from her foster mom reminded her this was not exactly a time in her life where she should turn down jobs right now, so with renewed determination she accepted the positon despite not having been back to the site since _the incident_ the first time she stepped foot into the city she'd had a panic attack. It was another few weeks before she'd even step into the ballroom again and she absolutely refused to go down the hallway alone. It was another year before she was even comfortable being alone in the city at all!

But after a few months after Thomas had started up again, Garrett was breathing down his neck, demanding answers that he didn't have. Several nights Thomas confided in Neal his frustrations, his worries that it would all be a waste of effort. Neal's heart broke for him but there wasn't really much she could do except for listen.

She was beginning to worry that she'd be out of a job once more and so to relieve that stress Neal began painting once again. It was probably returning back to the site that brought out the images she painted, dozens upon dozens of pictures of the cell she's been in, her room, the view from the balcony, of Tauriel, of Faervel, the kind guard, but mostly of Thranduil. Over and over she'd drawn him, sometime only drawing those eyes, and other times drawing him just as he looked the first day he met her, and the last day she saw him.

She didn't know why she drew him so much, perhaps it was guilt but it seemed she was almost unable to stop drawing him. And of course, she had taken up to reading the books, dismayed that there was not nearly enough information about him, none of Tauriel, but there was droves of information about his son! Neal hadn't even remembered him meeting a son and she began to wonder if maybe Tolkien got that bit wrong.

It was on that particular day when Thomas stumbled along her reading the famous books and caught a glimpse of the Elvish writing.

That was all it took for the research team to explode in a frenzy of activity. They searched through every last one of the books that resided in the cities Hall, calling in experts in Elvish to help translate. Thomas laughed, amazed that a language previously thought of as fictitious would have made such a mark on the world but he was thankful all the more for it

"That Tolkien might have really been onto something!" Thomas had remarked to Neal. Historians and newspapers and theologians were all clamoring to have a look at the site, spinning theories and postulates about how the existence of Elves could have been real and how this place existed at all. Elves? Impossible!

Eventually though, they concluded that it might not be Elves at all, but simply an entire population of Men who had evolved to be become a better stronger version, a genetic defect. A variance. A variance with what seemed like, after they information they gathered from the site, an entire monarchy government, an entire language and way of life completely different than those of that time.

However, such a genetic anomaly couldn't be sustainable and eventually, they postulated, they died out one by one, and with them their stories and cities and language. The world seemed happy enough with that excuse and Neal was content to let that be that until Garret stumbled upon her sketches and paintings tucked away in her office trailer and immediately commissioned her artwork then and there, claiming that it was exactly the tone he wanted for the place, asking how much more she had and saying he'd pay whatever price for the paintings.

Neal was so delighted by the prospect that someone was actually interested in her heart she hadn't realized that she'd be decorating her workplace with her greatest secret! She was saying yes before she'd even thought about the implications but she prayed that was the only connection to Middle Earth she'd have to give.

Despite the thrill of the job and the much-needed income, Neal was ready to put this whole mess behind her! She was tired of all the talk of Elves and by now she was tired of painting them every day. She would be content to never hear about or see another Elf for as long as she lived!

"So, I guess you'll be here pretty late tonight then?" Thomas asked, as they pulled up to The City.

"Yeah, really late." Neal groaned, wondering how many times she could send an intern out for coffee before it became ridiculous. "I'm going to get some painting done this morning, hang a couple things and then I've got an entire evening of schmoozing rich people, and board meetings with Garrett."

"Lucky you."

"Aren't I just?"

"Well, if you're still here by the time I'm finished, I was thinking, if you want, we could grab some dinner?"

"Dinner would be great. I already know I'll be starving."

"That's because coffee isn't breakfast, Neal, you have to eat." Thomas grumbled lightheartedly. "But, seriously, you know…somewhere nice." Neal raised a questioning eyebrow, turning to face the man head on.

"Somewhere nice? For dinner?" _Is he asking me on a date or as my friend?_ She could never quite tell with Thomas. There was a moment, after she'd returned, that she thought that maybe he felt the same way, but nothing ever came of it, and as was Thomas's usual way he never brought it up.

She probably should have, she knew that, but she didn't want to always be the one to make the first move, that was one of the many issues in their relationship the first go around! Thomas was never moving forward in anything, but if he was actually making a step into the grey area defined their relationship…well that would have been something.

"Or not, but, I mean…you gotta eat, right?" He said, hoping out of the cart and beginning to pull the canvases out. "It doesn't have to be tonight, it's whatever, I just, you're going to be hungry." Neal let out a sigh, feeling deflated as she piled the supplies in her cart. _Same old Thomas._

"Yeah, I'll let you know. I've got a conference call in the evening so swing on by if you want."

"Sure." Thomas nodded, running a hand through his hair. "I mean, I'll be here pretty late too, I've got some cataloging I need to do but …it would be nice, to talk. You know?"

"Yeah, sure." Neal said nodding as she collected the rest of her things from her the man. "I'll see you tonight."

* * *

"Yes, I will get right on that…of course…Neal Carter, yes that Neal Carter…it was quite an ordeal yes, but… mhmm, well thank you. Hope to see you at the opening! Ok goodbye now!" Neal hung up the phone, groaning in frustration as she laid her head down on the desk.

If she had to talk with another person about _the incident_ she was going to scream. Her stomach growled in protest as she checked the time on her one declaring it was ten fifteen. A message from Thomas she received over an hour ago sat unread in her messages, and she assumed that was him proclaiming he was leaving for the night.

_**In cellar, come grab me before you leave. We have dinner plans. **_The message read, much to Neal's delight.

A smile began to tug at her lips as she grabbed her purse, and pulled back on her heels, thankful she had packed another outfit for her meetings with Garrett. She wouldn't want to go to a nice dinner with Thomas dressed in her paint clothes. Although, she thought with a wry smile as she locked up her the door to her office trailer and headed inside to the site, his idea of a nice dinner was probably exactly the kind of place for a paint stained outfit.

She didn't really mind at this point, she was just hoping this would be her, this night would finally give her a concrete answer on where they were going. She was tired of the are-we or aren't-we shtick.

Neal's breezed through the city, her heart beating wildly as she stopped briefly in front of _that_ hallway. _The cellar_ _is down that way Neal. Thomas is down there, you're not by yourself. _She coached herself, taking a few steady breaths. _You've done this before you can do it again_.

She charged in, walking briskly through the area, thankful Thomas had left on the work lights to illuminate the way, and more than thankful there were now signs indicating which way to go. Neal had just about made it to the cellar, breathing a low sigh of relief when she heard voices. One definitely Thomas, and the other voice eerily familiar.

"-Why so you can attack me? Kidnap Neal, again? Not on your life, man!" Thomas voice called out and Neal's brow furrowed, trying to place the second voice. What was going on?

"I am quite sure I have no idea to what you are referring to but I can promise you if you do not let me out of here, you will regret it." The low threat in the voice stirred something in Neal and now she was absolutely sure she knew who that voice was, bounding toward the cellar as she heard Thomas's retort.

"Don't play dumb with me, ok? I know who you are! I've seen your picture, what they hell are you even doing here. How did you get here?" Thomas shouted, tension in his voice. "This is insane. You're not real!"

"Not real?!" The second voice shouted, losing all sense of control. "Do you actually have any idea who I am? You must not, you surely would not be making this mistake if you did!"

"Why don't you enlighten me." Neal said, rounding the corner, arms crossed as she came face to face with King Thranduil. Shock lighted his face for the briefest of moments, then rage, his face finally resting in that trademark smirk as he regarded her.

"Neal Carter." He hummed, leaning languidly against a cell door. "My this is…an interesting turn of events. I thought you had died."

"She could have, no thanks to you!" Thomas shouted. "I'm calling the police. Let them deal with this guy."

Neal shook her head, sitting down on a stack of boxes and regarding the cellar in a whole new light. The interns had called it that, a joke because rows and rows of cell's lined this bottom level, seemingly ready for an influx of prisoners…however, the Cellar was not meant to trap cleaning items and storage containers, not people.

"What are you doing here?" Neal asked, her vindicating moment now long gone. The king rolled his eyes in response, returning to his usual ill-tempered demeanor.

"In my own cell? I have not the slightest inclination. Though I assume it has something to do with this man here."

"I found him passed out down there." Thomas answered for him, waving his phone around to find a good signal. "I recognized his face from your pictures and decided I wasn't taking any chances leaving him out there."

"So, you locked him in a cell? Thomas, that's crazy!"

"Oh, right! Because it was perfectly rational when he did it to you!" The man shouted, shooting a glare at the Elven King who returned an equally icy one.

"Fair point." Neal grumbled, running a hand down her face, grabbing her stomach to silence it's growling. She should be eating right now with Thomas, and possibly other things, not dealing with a fictional character three years after he'd sent he'd banished her. "Thomas…you can't call the police." She said quietly, after several moments.

"Why the hell not?!"

"So, he is real." Thranduil remarked, sizing up Thomas as continued to lean against the bars. "Well at least you were truthful in having a husband, if nothing else." Thomas blanched, blinking rapidly at Neal for several moments.

"Y-you, you told him I was your husband?" He asked. Neal's cheeks were burning with shame as she shook her head, meeting the hard gaze of the King.

"He's not my husband." She confessed and Thranduil made no move of surprise or shock, his face deadpanned.

"I am utterly surprised. A liar who has lied once again."

"Oh, be quiet you!" Neal shouted, standing to her feet as she paced back and forth. "I need to figure out what to do with you."

"Right, yeah, why would we call the police. That's what a rational person would do when coming face to face with the man who locked her in a cell, kept her prisoner and could have gotten her killed but, hey, it's a Friday night so why not get a little wild. No, yeah, let's not call the police. We'll figure this out on our own. Like a bunch of cooky kids in a Netflix movie. Great. Awesome." Thomas quipped, leaning against the wall as he eyeballed the king.

"He's not a man, he's an Elf." Neal said, still passing.

"What?"

"You said man, and he's not a man he's an Elf."

"Cool, thanks for clearing that up. Hey, can I talk to you, over here for a moment?" Thomas asked, pulling her around the corner. "Real quick, will just take a sec…uh, are you insane?"

"Really?" Neal asked, crossing her arms in irritation.

"No, honestly, I need to know if this is some sort of manifestation of undealt with trauma, or whatever because I for the life of me cannot imagine why you would not call the police?"

"Because, Thomas, for one, I filed a police report about a fictional character! Do you know the kind of trouble I would be in for that?"

"Probably not a whole lot when you present to them, a living breathing person, guilty of said charges filed."

"Which brings me to reason number two! We are in an entire facility dedicated to discovering the historical relevance and apparent existence of elves. Can you imagine what they would do to him when they realized what he was?"

"Good, let him rot in jail, that's what he would have done to you, Neal, why are you defending him?!"

"I'm not defending him Thomas, I just want you to see reason! I told you he apologized, and he did sort of kind of try to make it right." Neal argued. "And you know good and well they wouldn't just let him sit in jail forever. He's not a human with a defect he's an Elf, a completely different race with a completely different genetic makeup. They'd have a field day!"

Thomas shook his head, running a hand down his face as he let out of grunt of frustration.

"So, ok, what do you propose we do? Should we try and save the ridiculously attractive Elf King, huh? Send him back into the wild after we've learned a valuable lesson about the species of Elves and how they're not so different from us after all?" Thomas said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"Sarcasm's a great look for you. Keep that up, it's real nice." Neal snapped. "Get real, this is serious."

"You get real! I know how serious this is, which is why I wanted to call the police. I mean would you care that much if he wasn't so... I mean really, the guy's basically Adonis with longer hair." Neal rolled, her eyes, gritting her teeth in frustration as he continued, "Admit it you think he's hot. You've drawn pictures of him everywhere and I get that, he's a good-looking guy if you like that type of thing, but he also put you in danger Neal. You could have died. You're letting that cloud your judgement."

"Really, _t__hat's _what you think of me? I didn't die, by the way, I'm fine!"

"You're not fine, Neal! You're not! You're only alive because by some miracle you ended up back here, not because of anything he's done!"

"I am still well within hearing range, if that matters at all." Thranduil quipped, his voice dry and bored as it echoed off the stone walls. The pair stood still, admittedly forgetting the presence of the aforementioned king, so locked into their argument as they were.

"Thomas," Neal started gently, grabbing his hand as she spoke. "I am safe, I am here and I'm not going anywhere. He made a mistake, and he is an ass, and you can absolutely hate him if you want to…but we can't call the police. We need to help him. If government officials and mad scientists get a hold of him…death would be a mercy. We can't do that do him Thomas. We're not those people. Let's prove to him we're not those people. I owe him that much..."

Thomas looked away from her, nostrils flaring in rage as he glared at him. Every fiber of his being was begging him to call the police, to get rid of this threat and continue on with the evening he had planned with her. He couldn't believe what she was saying. This wasn't her at all! But, he realized with a relenting sigh, she was right. He couldn't in good conscious _not_ help someone in this position, especially not the very someone who's race he was devoting so much time and energy into learning about.

"Fine." Thomas replied, not taking his eyes off of Thranduil as he gripped and ungripped his hands. "So, what's the plan here?"

Thranduil stood back, sneering at the two of them.

"Yes, Neal Carter, what is your plan."

"That's a good question." Neal replied. What exactly were they going to do?

**A/N: OK , so hope you enjoyed! Please read and review, let me know what you think!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Chapter six and we're back on Earth! How is Neal going to handle being stuck with Thranduil here? How will Thomas? How will Thranduil? Read and find out.**

**A huge thank you to: XantheXV, iddyline, Raider-K, emithieu23, Skepticalfox, leward1992, tadah2, HannahRe for reviewing last chapter and all of those who have followed and favorited this story so far! Hope you continue to enjoy!**

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Neal chewed her bottom lip as she leaned back against the stone wall, actively avoiding Thranduil's gaze while Thomas waited for her response. But she could feel his eyes on her, those same eyes that she'd drawn over and over. Those same eyes that were now here, staring at her!

How was this even possible? He was a _fictional_ character! It was a lot harder to convince herself that her entire experience in Middle Earth was a bout of insanity when _he _was right there smirking away at her like he knew something she didn't.

"Well? We are all eager to hear your plan." Thranduil asked, looking far more comfortable standing behind those bars then she felt now. "Though it will not save you."

"Give me a minute, I'm thinking!" Neal snapped, biting her knuckle and leaning back on her heels.

"What do you mean by that?" Thomas barked, stepping in front of Neal defensively. "Are you really threatening us when we're trying to save your ass?"

"Do you really believe you can keep me here and no one will find me? I am a King. What do you imagine the punishment is for imprisoning a King?" Thranduil countered.

"Oh…oh, he doesn't know." Neal breathed out, her hands steadying herself against the wall as Thomas let out a Mithless laugh.

"You've got to be freaking kidding me." He said, looking to Neal for confirmation. "Hey, man, where exactly do you think you are right now?" He asked spinning back to the King who said nothing in reply, only staring down stone faced at the man. He didn't enjoy being made to look like a fool.

"Thomas, stop." Neal urged, rubbing her forehead as she stood to her feet now. The last thing she wanted was to have to explain to an Elven King that he was in an entirely different world! No, she wasn't doing that, not if she could help it!

"What do you mean _stop? _You mean you didn't tell him? The entire time you were there he had no idea where you were from?"

"I didn't know where I was! And Middle-Earth wasn't exactly the most logical conclusion!"

"Wow, this is really great. Just great." Thomas groaned, running his hands through his hair as he paced back and forth.

"I fail to see what it is you find so amusing." Thranduil remarked, the edge to his voice the only indication that the Elven King was starting to grow concerned. He had always known the human woman was odd, her mannerisms and her turn of phrase, but the man…he was just as odd, from his clothing to his demeanor…there was nothing about the two of them that marked them for any of the human towns he knew of. They certainly were not from Dale! He mentally cursed himself, wondering how it was he had not seen it before.

"No? Oh, well, let me clue you in!"

"Thomas, stop! Don't say anything." Neal argued, grabbing the frazzled man by the arm and pulling him back. "Why put him through all that psychological stress if we don't have to? I have a plan, ok?"

"Oh, good." Thomas quipped, nodding rhythmically as he shoved his hands in his coat pocket. "This should be good, let's hear it then."

Neal bit the inside of her cheek. She _did_ have a plan but it wasn't a good plan and, according to every single movie she had seen ever, it was not likely to work. Still, what other plan did she have? She couldn't exactly kennel an Elven King here permanently!

"We're going to send you back out where we found you." Neal said determinedly, hands placed on her hips as she turned a level gaze on the King. "That's what you did to me, and I got home just fine. It should work for you."

The King quirked an eyebrow, as Thomas let out an exasperated sigh, and looked down at the human woman in amazement.

"You do realize that is far less threatening than you try to make it sound?" He asked. "Why bring me here if your goal is to set me out again into my own woods? Are you not frightened by the consequences of your actions?" He was, admittedly, baffled by the small human woman who stood before him. She seemed different than the first day he had laid eyes on her, less afraid…but still just as brash, just as irksome and stalwart. Though, he noted, her hair color was different, darker than it had been, less red…it flattered her more, he thought and then irritably brushed the thought away as she sent a pitying glance in his direction. _That_ did bother him. As if he needed _pity_ from a woman he regarded as a thief not three short years past!

"Trust me, I had no part in bringing you here." Neal said, shaking her head and fiddling with the keys. "The sooner we can get you out of here the better."

"Neal, wait!" Thomas urged as she stepped forward. "You're going to let him out? Just like that? He's dangerous." Neal huffed, knowing he was right, and looking between Thomas and Thranduil who eyed each other threateningly.

"Are you planning on hurting us?" Neal asked with a sigh.

"The idea seems more and more appealing with each passing moment." Thranduil said testily, his eyes never leaving Thomas's.

"Well then I suppose he's right." Neal said with a shrug, pulling her coat tighter around her. "Let's go get dinner, Thomas. Maybe he needs more time in here."

Thomas gave her a wary look but nodded, shoving his phone back in his pocket and flipping the light switch. The room went black immediately and Neal didn't miss the audible gasp that left the King as the couple walked down the hall out of the cellar, holding onto the wall as a guide.

"Neal Carter!" Thranduil shouted, rattling the cell doors as the sound of his rage echoed down the halls. "You will not leave me here!"

"I'm thinking sushi, but what about you?" She asked innocently, as the bars to the cell gave an unsettling creak.

"If he breaks those he's paying for it." Thomas muttered, placing his hand on the small of her back as he ushered her forward.

"Well he's a king, I'm sure he's good for it."

"Neal Carter!" Thranduil shouted again, followed a flurry of rapid fire words in his language.

She let out a sigh, standing in the hallway listening to the King shouting, the irony of the situation not lost on her at all. She remembered all too well what it was like to be left in the dark and begging for someone to let her out. She couldn't do that…not even to him.

"Neal…" Thomas urged softly, knowing exactly the kind of thoughts that had to be rushing through her mind right. "Neal, let's go, he'll be fine."

Neal shook her head and turned on her heel, walking back toward the cell and flipping on the light switch, surprised at the effect that small action had on the King. He looked altogether unnerved, every muscle in his body tensed, coiled and ready to strike as he regarded Neal in an entirely different way now. Before he looked at her as an inconvenience, an annoyance, now…now she was a threat.

_Hopefully we can get this over with and I won't have to explain electricity to him._ She thought in annoyance.

"I'll ask you again, do you plan on hurting us, or would you like to cooperate and go home?" She asked arms crossed and heel tapping, one hand lazily dangling the keys to his freedom.

The King shot her a sneer, his eyes traveling up her body in one fluid motion, as if he were visually marking which parts of her to attack first and then suddenly his back straightened, and his face relaxed until he once again appeared to be the cold and composed, albeit slightly unhinged King Neal knew him to be.

He didn't have to say it, Neal knew he would relent, but perhaps it was this shift in power that had her wanting him to say it. To give voice to the reality he now faced, that _she _had the upper hand this time, not him. She waited for him to speak, holding his eyes gaze as memories of their first encounter ricocheted in her mind.

The King's jaw clenched and he looked over her head to Thomas, letting out a conceding sigh and gave one cut nod.

"Say it. I want your word." Neal added.

"What good would it do? Words exchanged between those who cannot trust each other mean nothing." He replied, glaring down at her.

"I never said I didn't trust you, Thranduil." She added. He flinched slightly at the informal way in which she regarded him and sniffed.

"Do you, then?"

"Absolutely not."

"Ah, well, then it appears we are right back where we started." He said with a condescending smile, arms clasped behind his back.

"Great." She scoffed, anger flaring up in her as she turned to leave, shoving the keys in her pocket. "Enjoy your night, watch out for the rats, they bite." Flipping the light switch once more she relished the enraged grunt that left the King as she walked out, this time with every intention of leaving him here.

"Neal Carter," Came his voice once Neal and Thomas made it halfway down the hall. "I give you my word that no harm will you to you or your companion so long as you keep yours and I am returned home."

Neal nodded, moving to head back when Thomas grabbed her arm.

"You can't really trust him, can you? What if this doesn't work? When I found him…I mean he was just lying there, it might not work."

"Yeah, but we have to try, right?" She asked, placing her hand on his arm. "What's the harm in walking him down and _trying_. He could end up back home, that's what happened to me. And that way we don't have to tell him. Spare him a little, you know?"

Thomas shook his head, reaching for her in the dark as he pulled her into his arms. Softly, he kissed the top of her head, and with a relenting sigh nodded. She was trying to be a good person, why did it bother him so much, and why was he trying to stop it? He wanted this Elf King out just as bad as she did, right?

"Ok, let's try." They walked back, and Thomas unlocked the door, opening it wide to allow Thranduil to exit and the three of them walked toward through the maze of hallways until they reached the very on he had been found. The very hallway that had caused more than enough troubles for all of them.

"Go on," Neal insisted, jutting her chin toward the hall. "It's that way."

"I know the way, Neal Carter." He shot back, giving her another curious look before turning and walking without so much as a thank you. Though his back was turned to them, Neal knew he was still just as dangerous.

"Hey wait!" She shouted suddenly, chasing after him down the hall before he could go any further. Ignoring Thomas' call she continued to run, needing to know one thing before she never saw him again! "Faervel…did he…?" She asked, unable to finished the sentence but praying for a positive outcome.

Thranduil blinked, surprised by her request but soon his face softened and he gave a small nod. "He is alive. We did not expect it, but we are grateful for it." Neal let out a shaky breath and nodded quickly.

"Ok, good. Good, that's good." She sighed in relief, feeling years of guilt melting off of her. Faervel had been kind to her. She'd only known him for just a few moments but she never forgot him. He was one of the first people who had been kind to her without any expectation. "I was sorry, you know…I just…I'm so sorry, Thranduil. I had no idea that would happen, It was never my intention…I just, I'm sorry."

Thranduil straightened, looking away for a moment as he remembered that night, and shame suddenly filled him. He was scared for Faervel, he was scared for his people, and angry he had been lied to and duped; he could justify his actions all he wanted but the way he treated her that night, sending her away the way he did…it was deplorable, there was no other word for it.

"I know, and you are forgiven." He said quietly before meeting her earnest gaze. There was no lie in her voice, and for the first time he saw in her what Tauriel had those years ago. "I too…must apologize. I should not have reacted so harshly."

"It all worked out though." She said, wrapping her arms around herself. "Thank you, though, for apologizing. I can tell you've really matured these last few years." Thranduil rolled his eyes dramatically, whatever positive sentiments he felt evaporating quickly.

"Farewell, Neal Carter." He said, a smirk pulling the corners of his mouth as he straightened himself to his full height. "I hope to never again, have the pleasure of your company."

"My sentiments exactly." Neal snorted, turning back as the two of the parted ways, her to Thomas and her world and him back to his.

Neal smiled, feeling lighter than she had in years. Maybe her therapist was right, some sort of closure was good for her. She and the King both made their relative peace and Neal never had to deal with the unfortunate business of telling him he was no longer on Middle Earth.

_WHAM!_

A force shot through the air, throwing Neal to the ground and shaking the cavern around them she covered her head, shielding herself from the falling rubble that clattered down around them.

"Neal!" Thomas shouted, running over to her as soon as soon as everything had calmed around them. He grabbed her hand, helping her to her feet, checking her head for injuries. "Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?"

"No, you?" She asked, Thomas shook his head. "What was that?"

"I also, am uninjured, thank you for asking." A familiar voice groaned. Neal whipped her head around, jaw falling open as she watched Thranduil pull himself up, his cape disheveled but the rest of him appeared uninjured.

"He's still here?" Thomas groaned, "What the hell, Neal? You said this would work."

"It's supposed to!" She shouted back.

"What have you done?" Thranduil asked, storming toward them as Thomas pushed in front of her. Neal shoved past, yanking off a heel and holding it up as her only viable weapon. "Let me pass!"

"I didn't do anything!" She shouted. "You're free to go, you just have to through the cavern! That was the deal, I kept my end!"

"Then explain to me why I cannot pass?!" The King shouted, "Do not brandish your shoe at me, it is no weapon."

"Well, you've obviously never been hit with a Manolo before!" She retorted.

"Stop!" Thomas shouted, running his hands down his face. "Just, try it again, Thranduil, maybe it was a mistake. I don't know, but Neal and I haven't done anything. The sooner you're gone the better."

"Yeah, maybe walk slower or something."

"I cannot pass, whatever is there is impenetrable to me now." Thranduil ground out. He could feel whatever energy force radiating now, the low threatening thrum mocking him as it denied his passage. But beside that, Thranduil felt that something was very wrong here, something greater than what he had previously thought. "We will go out another way."

"We can't go out another way." Neal said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You'll have to try again."

"I see you making no efforts to pass through?" Thranduil noted, cocking his head to the side. "If you are so confident, you are more than welcome to lead the charge."

Neal shook her head, vehemently.

"Nope. Been down that magical mystery tour and I'm not doing it again. "

"Oh, I'll go!" Thomas shouted, walking forward in determination.

"Thomas, -"

Another rush of energy shot through the cavern, pushing all of them backwards, but this time Thranduil was ready for the burst and stood his ground, grabbing Neal's body before she slammed her head against the rock wall. She really was such a small fragile thing, he thought in amazement, wondering how a woman of her stature could have such a domineering presence.

"This place is not safe!" Thomas shouted, not moving as he lay on the ground. "I'm going to have to shut the whole damn hall down. It'll set us back weeks of research, Garrett will have a field day! This is great, really great. I just wanted dinner. Just a nice dinner, is that too much to ask?" Thomas continued to mutter to himself as he stood to his feet and it wasn't until then that Neal noticed Thranduil still held her body against his, cradling her from the effects of the blast.

She felt heat rise to her cheeks as she quickly untangled himself from his arms, ignoring the amused look the Elf King shot her. _Yeah, don't get any ideas._ She thought, removing her jacket and shaking the dirt from it.

"Ok, so plan A is out." She said at last, combing her fingers through her hair. "What now?"

"What now? What now?! How the _hell_ am I supposed to know?" Thomas shouted, looking around the cavern for sign of an impending cave in. "We have to get out of here."

"Enough of this!" Thranduil roared. "I had ignored whatever secrets the two of you shared because I did not believe it was pertinent to me at the time, but now it appears there is much more to this than you have shared with me and I will have answers!"

Neal's shoulders slumped as she let out a sigh. There was no other way around this really…she had to tell him.

"You're not…you're not supposed to be here Thranduil." Neal started, ignoring the derisive noise the king made.

"Thank you for your wise council. Enlightening, truly."

"Where I am from Elves are not real and Thranduil, son of Oropher is only known in stories. He's a fiction. His whole world is a fiction."

"Well as you can see, I am quite real." Thranduil scoffed. "And just where is it you are from then, Neal Carter? Do not insult me once again by telling me you are from Dale."

"Nope. No, we're not from Dale. We are not from Middle Earth at all actually." She said, her voice trailing into a whisper.

"Spare me your lies! You cannot be serious?" The King barked but then stepped back, laughing slightly as he looked to Thomas. "You believe this?"

"It's true. You're on Earth. It's completely different from the world you're from." Thomas said with a shrug. Another rumble sent forth another shower of rocks and dirt raining down over them and the man cured aloud, covering his head until she tremors subsided." We need to get out of here, I've gotta call Garrett. We can't have people out here like this. Let's go." He ordered, jerking his head in the opposite direction as he lead the way out.

"I will not go anywhere with you until you explain to me what you mean by this." Thranduil ground out. Neal let out a groan as worry began to wind its way into her belly. This Elf was going to kill her!

"I told you. You're not in Middle Earth anymore, you're on my planet, Earth." Neal said, speaking quickly as she inched her way toward the exit. "Somehow, I don't know why, but this place has linked both out worlds, mine and yours. So, when you found me wondering around down here…I thought I was still in my world…the whole time I had thought I was in my world. I thought, well you know what I thought. I was scared."

"Which is why you claimed to have no knowledge of Elves." The king answered evenly, his face showing no sign of the war that was waging inside his mind.

"Yeah, I thought you were all just making it up. I thought you were crazy." She further explained. "But that day I tried to escape, when we were talking alone that time…I realized that it all sounded too familiar. I was still trying to make sense of it all when Faervel came back and then-"

"And then I sent you away." Thranduil finished and turned his back to her.

"Yeah…" Neal finished, crossing her arms around her chest. Thranduil said nothing and the silence dragged on for what felt like hours.

"So, now that we're all caught up, can we get out of here now?" Thomas pipped up.

"I still have questions that need answering." Thranduil argued.

"Yeah, of course you do. As expected, but might I suggest we answer them on the way out."

"And where will we go, Thomas?" Neal asked, her eyes drifting back to Thranduil. As much as he got under her skin, all the trouble they'd caused each other, she couldn't help but feel sorry for him as he stood fixed to his spot like a statue.

"I need to return to…to my world." Thranduil said quietly, so quietly it made Neal pause. He sounded, broken. It killed her. Thomas jerked his head wildly, urging the both of them to exit.

"I know…we'll figure it out, Thranduil but right now, we need to leave." Neal said.

"You do not know! You cannot possibly know! I am a king! My people need me, my _son_ needs me! I cannot just abandon them!" He shouted, spinning around to face her. Shame filled him instantly as he saw the whirlwind of emotions flitting across her face.

"I don't need to say that I, more than anyone else, know exactly how you feel right now." Neal bit back caustically, her fingers drumming against her arm as she craned her neck to glare back at him. "But in case you didn't get it the first time, you cannot get home that way right now. I don't know why, or if it's temporary or not but I gave you my word. I told you we would get you home and we will. You're not abandoning your people, you're just in a situation beyond your control right now. But, we will reassess, we'll figure it out, we'll get you home."

"You sound so sure." He sniffed.

"Well…I am. I made it back didn't I?" Neal shrugged. "Besides, you gotta fake it til we make it."

"Thomas! What the hell man!" A shout rang out through the hall that instantly made Neal jump.

"Oh good, Garrett's still here." Thomas groaned. "We have to get him out of here." Neal nodded. Garrett was the _last_ person that needed to know about Thranduil. Garrett would have sold out the King just as fast as he shook his hand.

"Hey," Neal said, drawing out the word as she turned to the king. "I know that you are processing, but our boss is coming and, well…it's best if he does not know who you are. So can you just go with what we're saying?" Thranduil gave a wary nod, bringing himself to his full height as Garrett turned down the tunnel.

"You're supposed to be gone, 2 hours ago! I'm not paying you overti- Oh," Garret stopped, a sly smile spreading across his face as he looked at Neal, and raised both hands up. "Hello Neal. Ok , I get it, but not on company time, eh pal?" Neal scoffed, brushing her hair over her shoulder.

"We are working, Garrett. Thomas and I have a strictly working relationship."

"That we do." Thomas pipped up, but added under his breath, "Of course if we had made it to dinner, who knows." Garrett had already shoved passed the two of them, raising a critical brow at Thranduil.

"Hi, Garrett Scott, nice to meet you." He said, offering a hand to Thranduil who eyes it in disgust. "Who are you and what are you doing on my site."

"He's a model." Neal offered.

"He's an actor." Thomas said at the same time as Neal.

"Well he's a model slash actor. We hired him to get some promo shots of the site, and as a possible tour guide. I thought it might be kind of fun interactive thing." She explained. Garret nodded, smoothing his slicked back dark hair once again.

"That's why I hired you, Neal. Didn't I say Thomas? Didn't I say she was a gem." Garret laughed, pointing excitedly to Neal while Thomas merely rolled his eyes and mumbled so sort of halfhearted agreement. "Sorry about that man, but you know how journalists can be. Don't want anyone sneaking in and snapping pictures for free!"

"No, certainly not." Thranduil responded in mock outage, and Neal fought to suppress her smile. Garrett gave Thranduil a once over and pointed to him.

"Odd fellow though, isn't he?"

"He's a method actor." Neal said quickly. "Very into character, very excited to learn all about…the elves."

Thranduil cocked his head, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Yeah…makes sense. Well, Mr…"

"Mr. Green. Will Green." Thomas added, shrugging to Neal. Thranduil rolled his eyes but gave an affirmative nod to Garrett.

"Well, Mr. Green, I can see why you're a model. Looks like you'll be giving our boy Thomas here a run for his money, huh?" he said clasping Thomas on the back.

"Ok, that's enough." Neal said in exasperation. "We have to leave here, Garrett. There was some kind of tremor and we don't think it's very safe right now."

"Yeah, we're gonna have shut this whole hall down, probably the entire lower level." Thomas agreed, delighting just a bit in being the one to deliver the bad news to him.

"Oh, you're kidding me?" Garrett asked, swearing as he ran his hand down his mouth. "That will put us behind schedule, Thomas we need to open on time. We can't afford not to."

"Yeah, and we can't afford the bad press when a bunch of people die in a tunnel collapse either." He countered. Neal nodded toward Thranduil, bidding him to follow her back out the tunnel while the men argued amongst themselves.

"That man is your employer?" Thranduil asked dubiously. Neal sucked her teeth as she nodded.

"Yup. Isn't he a delight?"

"I cannot say as much." Thranduil countered, giving Neal a wry smile. Neal turned, laughing to herself as she listened to Thomas shouting back at Garrett. Then suddenly Neal grew quite serious, turning and placing her hand on Thranduil's arm.

"He can't know, Thranduil. Garrett can never know who you are. No one can. This world, my world, it's so, so different than yours in most every way and if we're going to get you home in one piece you have to listen to us."

"So, I am to be your prisoner?" Thranduil asked, a teasing edge to his voice. Neal rolled her eyes and then deepened her voice to mimic the elven king.

"I extend to you the curtesy of my home." Thranduil arched an eyebrow.

"Charming."

"I have been told that. Come along, they'll follow us out. I need to explain to you how electricity works. Don't want you panicking every time a light is switched on."

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**Text me when you're home.**

**I'm serious, Neal. **

**I will call the police.**

**Home yet?**

**Hello?**

**?**

Neal rolled her eyes, setting her phone back on the dashboard. Thomas worried way too much. They had to let him stay somewhere and Thomas's bachelor trailer on the edge of the site wasn't exactly going to work. Neal's place was the next logical conclusion. She didn't exactly welcome the idea but she was the only one of the two with a spare room and the space for an extra person. So, begrudgingly Thomas agreed, surprising Neal but perhaps he lost all his fight in the verbal match with their boss. That was another issue she'd tackle tomorrow.

"Should you not keep your eyes on the road?" Thranduil ground out, his hands clutching the armrest so tightly Neal was sure she'd had his fingerprints permanently cemented into the leather.

"Relax, it's just a car." Neal laughed, but obliged him. "I've been driving for nearly 13 years, I think I've got the jist of it."

"Ha!" Thranduil gave a biting laugh, keeping his eyes trained on the dashboard. "That is hardly enough time to master a skill!"

"Maybe not for you." She grumbled, grabbing her cup of coffee and smiling to herself and she watched him tense up. "Honestly? You rode an entire Elk. A wild animal and my car scares you?"

"It is not the car that frightens me," He said through ground teeth. "It is the accelerated speed with which you bring the car to, and your careless actions that bring me to fear for my life."

"You are so dramatic."

"You cannot possibly be serious?!"

"I am, do you see yourself right now?"

"Neal Carter, do you not recall the day you threw food across my study? Tossed my papers and soaked my desk in wine and ink? You acted as a child over a wine pairing."

"That wasn't why I was upset, that was a joke! You had to know I had a lot more to be upset about than wine! Come on!" She shot back, flipping her blinker on. "Are you hungry? Also, you can just call me Neal, you don't have to use my whole name every time you speak to me."

"That is how you introduced yourself, I assumed that was what you preferred. Hungry for what?" He asked suspiciously.

"I don't know, do you like burgers? Or…wait do you eat meat?" His disgusted sneer told her no, he did not. "Veggie burgers it is then." She said to herself turning into the fast food restaurant with a sigh. She had rather hoped her stomach would be full of wine and sushi right now, not fast food. She also hoped her and Thomas would have…well, it didn't matter now, did it?

"You thought I poisoned you. If that is not the epitome of dramatics."

"Umm, I was afraid for my life. You weren't exactly a gracious host."

"And so now I must fear for mine?"

"It's the circle of life, baby." Neal said with a laugh, and ordered the food looking over at Thranduil every few seconds. His face showed nothing but Neal could tell this was quite the culture shock for him. The sooner she got him home, the better, for both of them!

A short while later, Neal pulled into her neighborhood, explaining to Thranduil the wonder of the veggie burger and accompanying French fries.

"Home sweet home." She announced dramatically, leaning back into the driver's seat for just a moment before heaving herself out of the car. Grabbing her phone, she sent a quick message to Thomas explaining they were safe, and groaned as the clock read _1:47 AM._

_At least I can do some work at home tomorrow, won't have to worry about going in._ She opened the passenger door, apologizing for forgetting he did not know how to open it and showed him how to unclip the seatbelt, marveling at the fact that he truly would have to be shown how to do _everything._

Unlocking the door, she ushered him inside, giving him a warning before flipping on the lights, feeling a pang of sympathy at his twinge. She sat the food down, and grabbed him a plate as he explored the home.

It was spacious and well kept, save a desk in the corner that was strewn about with paper and all sorts of items. There were many windows, and several plants he noted, scattered amongst the house. A large seating area and many other things that made no sense. These dwellings seemed odd to him, and it made his head ache to try and piece it together.

"So you really have no idea how you got here, huh? Can't remember anything?" Neal asked, setting his plate down on the table, pleased that she had managed to make a fast food meal so utterly appealing."

"No, I do not." Came his short reply, as his eyes scanned the pictures on the wall.

"Come, eat." Neal encouraged. "I'll show you your room afterward. I don't have any pajamas, but I can grab you a couple clothes tomorrow, and I'll show you how to work the shower in the morning."

"Thank you." He said, forcing himself to sound grateful as he glanced at the food with an upturned lip.

"It's not poisoned." Neal quipped, taking a bite out of hers.

"Is that supposed to be a comfort?" She rolled her eyes again, taking a sip of her soda as she read through the emails on her phone. Man, she was tired.

Eventually, he managed to suffer through the duration of the meal without further complaint and Neal brought him upstairs, showing him the bathroom, how the toilet and shower worked before grabbing him a few extra blankets to sit in the guest room.

"You only have one bathhouse?" He asked with a smirk. "Will that not make things awkward?"

"No, I have my own in my room. Rest assured, there will be no awkwardness." Or at least she hoped. "Just, uh, knock on my door if you need anything. Help yourself to whatever's in the kitchen, just don't use the stove. Or the microwave."

"I believe I can manage." Thranduil said, eyeing the room as he took the blankets from the woman. "Goodnight, Neal Car- Neal."

"Goodnight, Thranduil."

"Actually, since we have been discussing naming preferences, I would prefer it if you would refer to me as "My King," or "My Lord." He said, his voice teasing as Neal rolled her eyes. "It is much more fitting; do you not think."

"I will literally never do that. Good night." Neal said, shutting the door on him as she chuckled low to herself, pushing open the door to her bed room and yanking off her clothes.

_Yeah, this is not really how I imagined this night going…_ She thought to herself, sighing in disappointment as she pulled on a tank top and sweatpants. Grabbing her phone one more time she looked at her phone, pulling up the last message from Thomas and smiling as she re read it to herself.

**Ok, thanks for letting me know. Just stay safe, Neal, please? I want us to have another shot at that dinner sometime.**

Neal plugged the phone in, washed her face, brushed her teeth and shut the door, locking it with a satisfying click. As an added measure, she grabbed the old knife the Greenwood guard had given her, it's long while blade giving her some sense of safety as she tucked it under the other pillow…just in case, because she certainly did want to reschedule that dinner.

With a sigh she rolled over on her back, thinking of all the things she had hoped would happen tonight and all the ways she wanted Thomas to have made his move tonight…that was until Thranduil showed up, she thought with a huff. And with him having no memory of arriving here at all Neal and Thomas were going to have a hell of a time figuring out how to get him home!

But, all that could wait until, morning she decided, switching off the bedroom light. Tomorrow she'd finish her work and start figuring out how to get this King back to his Kingdom and out of her hair.

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**A/N: OK, thus ends chapter six! Hope you all enjoyed, and please review and let me know what you think, what you'd like to see and stay tuned for next chapter to see how Thranduil adjusts to modern living! Thank you!**

**-Laurel1234**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Chapter Seven, here we go!**

**A huge thank you to: skepticalfox, Tibblets, MommaWolf18, HannahRe, Ladey Jezzabella, leward1992, WickedGreene13, RaiderK, Camelotgirl17**

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Neal rolled over, pulling the blanket tighter over her body, as she snuggled deeper into bed. With a contented sigh she closed her eyes, relishing in the absolute delight of not having to get up for work this morning. She inhaled deeply the scent of her blankets when suddenly another smell invaded her senses.

Neal opened one eye as the burning scent filled her nose and rolled over. _No, you're having a stoke. Go back to sleep_. She told herself just as the smoke alarm went off, jolting her awake.

"Oh, come on." She growled, tossing the sheets back as she bounded down the steps and into the kitchen. Flumes of smoke poured out of her toaster and immediately Neal unplugged the appliance and shoved open the window, furiously fanning the smoke out the window. "I told you not to touch anything!" She yelled to the horrified Elf, grasping at his ears like they were on fire.

"Can you not silence it?"

"It'll shut of once we get the smoke out!" She shouted over the chirping of the alarm, fanning a baking sheet wildly in the air, before tossing that to the side and yanking a chair to try and silence the alarm for a few moments, cursing to herself the entire time. The both of them let out a sigh of relief as the alarm died. Neal jumped down from the chair, hands on her hips and head cocked to the side. "Are you alright?"

"I am fine, no thanks to that thing!" Thranduil said, glaring at the toaster. Neal shook her head irritably, pressing the eject button and pulling out what used to be a package of Pop Tarts, the silver foil melting nicely into the pastry.

"That _thing_ is a toaster." Neal declared, throwing the charred item into the sink. "It toasts things."

"To excess!"

"No, to whatever setting it's set to. It did its job. It cannot be held responsible for user error because it is an inanimate object. Which is why I told you _not_ to touch anything. To wait until morning."

"It has been morning for quite some time now."

"It's six o'clock! I've gotten four hours of sleep!" Neal shouted, picking up the pan and resuming her frantic waving, to rid her home of smoke and prevent the alarm from going off again.

"I should hardly think you need more than that." He said, arms crossed. "Was I simply expected to starve then?"

"For another three hours? Yes." She grunted. Barely four hours she'd had this guy, this Elf, in her home and he'd nearly burnt it down. There was no way she could leave him alone here, she realized, irritably blowing a tuft of hair out of her face. Sure, she was off today, but what about the rest of the week? What about events for the opening she'd have to attend, or any other after hour commitments? This was a terrible idea! "Coffee. I need…I need coffee."

Pulling out the pot she slammed the faucet on breathing in deeply, and exhaling through her mouth the smell of burnt plastic. Once the coffee was brewing Neal wordlessly grabbed the box of Pop Tarts, and demonstrated to Thranduil how to cook them properly, making a great show of removing the plastic wrapping. To his credit he only rolled his eyes at her once and tolerably accepted the lesson.

"I am not a child, Neal Carter, there is no need to speak to me as such." He declared, taking a large bite out of the Pop Tart before spitting it out forcefully.

"I would have told you it was hot, but you know, you're a grown-up now." Neal quipped taking a large gulp of coffee.

"Ah, yes. I had forgotten how charming you were."

"Very tactful way of saying that." Neal said, turning her head to hide her smirk as she pulled down another coffee mug. "You want some?"

"Of that? No, thank you." Thranduil sniffed, looking down regretfully at the pastry on his plate. It was quite possible the worst thing he'd ever eaten, and yet, after all the fuss he'd made he wouldn't give that woman the satisfaction of knowing that. With two fingers, he broke off another chunk and forced himself to chew.

"You haven't even tried it. It's coffee, it's good."

"I can smell it, that it enough for me. Just tea thank you. I trust you have that?"

Neal rolled her eyes, finishing up the cup as she poured herself another and a small amount for him as well.

"I have green tea, I'll make you some to try, if you try some coffee." She said setting the mug down in front of him.

"I will try it if you explain to me your attire." He said, waving a hand over her in disgust. "Is this normal for your people?" Neal stared down at the sweat pants and tank-top, running a hand through her disheveled hair and snorted.

"Oh, this old thing? This outfit is called '_I thought my house was on fire and I came down as fast as I could._'" She explained, pushing the cup closer to him as she took another swig of hers. Thranduil smirked, his eyes rolling over the holes in her pants and then stopping at the shirt.

"Is that a tongue sticking out of that mouth? You wear that out? For others to see?"

"It's The Rolling Stones. It is my duty to wear their merchandise." She explained, hand held up defensively. "Drink."

"No. You seem far too eager."

"I'm always eager to share that which has brought me so much joy." Neal said in mock seriousness. When he made no further move her shoulders slumped. "It's good. Just try it and if you hate it you never have to drink it again. If anything, it'll wash the taste of that Pop tart out of your mouth." She said with a laugh. Now that he had been found out, he pushed the plate away, relieved he no longer had to suffer through it.

"It really is terrible. How do you eat this?" He said, taking a sniff of the coffee. Neal laughed, taking the plate away, and tossing the contents in the trash.

"These were a main staple for me growing up." She explained with a shrug, scanning the fridge for something else he might like. "My real mom didn't cook, and sometimes she forgot to buy food so I always had a stash hidden away in my room. Now I just buy them for my niece when she comes to visit. Kids go wild over food like this."

"I would never allow my son to eat this." He said, taking a small sip of the coffee while Neal gave a sarcastic laugh.

"Well then you're a better parent then I had." She said, then, anxious to change the subject, asked him if he wanted anything else. "You can have cereal, oatmeal, or I can make eggs. Oh, or a bagel with strawberries?"

"That will do fine thank you." He said, taking another swallow of the coffee. It was a harsh, alarming liquid, much like the woman who drank it, but it was warm and there was a curious taste to it he could not place. It was not the worst thing he'd ever tasted, just … different. It could grow on him he supposed.

"You like it." Neal said, a victorious smile spreading across her face as she put the bagel in the toaster.

"It is tolerable." He conceded and Neal gave a satisfied nod, explaining the various ways he could drink coffee and tea. Quickly she rinsed off a few strawberries, cutting them and adding them atop the cream cheese spread on the bagel and grabbed two plates, setting them down in front of the both of them.

That meal he seemed to like, Neal noted in satisfaction, peering out the window as the sun began to peak through. She loved this time of day, when the sun shone through all the greenery in her window. It was peaceful, and for a moment she could forget the daunting list of tasks she'd need to complete for the day.

But the day was starting whether she was ready or not, and she needed to figure out the Elf situation before she'd have to reschedule her life. Neal peeked at him as she took another sip, the caffeine delivering a sense of coherence and also a bit of guilt. She was not a morning person, by any means, and had been known to be a bit grumpy, but she couldn't really blame him for being curious. She imagined he probably didn't get a lot of sleep last night and the new environment was probably a lot more jarring to him than he had let on.

"So…I imagine you have a lot of questions." Neal started flipping her hair to the side and pulling her legs up into her chair.

"Well, most of them you cannot answer."

"Try me."

"Why am I here?" He asked, to which Neal responded by sucking her teeth. She really didn't know the answer to that and he had no memory of the events prior. "As I thought."

"Well, that's not really fair, ask me something I can answer. Like electricity or why the sky is blue. Ask me that." She sniffed. Thranduil leaned back, a small smile on his lips and he took another sip of the tea, letting the liquid roll around before swallowing.

"Very well." He gave a small nod, and decided to ease into the questioning. "While you were in my charge you claimed to have no knowledge of Elves, and yet while explaining to your employer my appearance you told him I was eager to learn all about them. Care to explain?"

"Ok." She said slowly, placing her hands firmly around the coffee cup and she struggled to find an acceptable explanation. "Well, you're right about that, I did not believe Elves were real, as I'd told you before. The thing is… it appears that a certain book may or may not have actually been right about the existence of Elves."

"Our meeting did not confirm that?"

"No."

"Because you thought me insane?" Neal nodded. "And what is your opinion now?"

"I still think you're insane." Neal teased, taking another sip. "But then so are several other people. Thomas, you met him, is responsible for the area where you were found…because that area is proof that Elves existed once."

"Here? In your world?"

"Evidently. Still a little hazy on the details, but they've made a lot of headway. Discovered some artifacts, really interesting stuff." Neal added tapping the table at the end of her sentence. "So…it appears that I was wrong. Anyway, Garrett is the one who foots the bill for the research, no one would touch the project after my, um, disappearance."

"I see." Thranduil said quietly. "And you felt it was necessary to hide who I was from your employer. You don't trust him, yet you are willing to work for him?"

"Yeah…it's complicated."

"So you say." He quipped leaning back and reassessing the situation. So far he'd met three people, Neal, Thomas and Garret. Neal, he only barely trusted, Thomas he wasn't sure about and Garrett he didn't trust as soon as he had laid eyes on him. Neal certainly didn't trust him, which made his list of allies woefully slim. "So, you would like me to pretend to be Will Green, because…?"

"Because I don't feel it would be wise for him to know you're an… Elf."

"I imagine that was very difficult for you to say." He sniffed. Neal rolled her eyes, standing to her feet and taking the coffee cup to the sink to wash out.

"All of this has been difficult." Neal whispered, before squirting the soap into the coffee cup. Thranduil pretended he didn't hear, forcing down the pang of guilt he felt creep up within in. "I just…you know he'd sell his own grandmother and with this opening, if he found out he had a real Elf to add the hype around it all he'd absolutely use you."

"You truly think me so weak?" He scoffed, standing to his own feet and looking out the window. The trees barely concealed the road, and he stared at the cars whizzing by, the signs. So many odd sights and sounds. He found himself yearning for the quiet fall of leaves, the rush of the river, sounds that were normal, familiar…comforting. This world was nothing like he had ever seen and he doubted he would ever find comfort in this world like Neal had managed to carve out.

"No, Thranduil, I don't think you are weak." Neal sighed, leaning against the sink. "But there are things in this world…weapons, technology that you can't even imagine…and I don't think you're safe here walking around with a big sign that says 'Hey, I'm an Elf' plastered on your forehead. So yes, for now you are Will Green, aspiring model and actor. A plausible cover because you're way too good looking to be an intern." Thranduil cocked an eyebrow, amused as her face flushed when she realized what she had said.

"Will Green it is." He relented, deciding not to further provoke the woman. "Next question. What is your-"

"Neal, lock your door!" Thomas shouted, suddenly bursting through the door, a handful of clothes in his arms. "Anyone could walk through. Everyday. Do you want to end up on Dateline? People who leave their door unlocked end up on Dateline."

"Yeah, good morning to you too, Thomas." Neal said with a dismissive wave, grabbing a shirt from the pile of clothing in his arms. "A little small for him, but it'll work for now."

"Well you know, it's not that small. Just different widths …he's a little thicker around the middle I would say." Thomas defended giving Thranduil a once over. "I mean he's an inch taller…maybe two, but muscularly we're basically the same size."

Neal snickered to herself, grabbing the shirts and pants and moving them to the couch.

"You allow this man to barge into your home unannounced? This man who is not your husband?" Thranduil asked. Thomas shook his head at the man, shrugging.

"As opposed to letting you, a fictional Elf King crash on the couch. Yeah, me walking in through an unlocked door is baffling."

"He's brought you clothes. The appropriate response is, thank you."

"I have clothes" Thranduil protested, sneering at the long sleeved green thermal.

"You can't where your crazy king robes in public, people will stare."

"I beg your pardon? I do know how to dress myself."

"Not here you don't."

"Don't worry." Thomas said, grabbing himself a glass of water. "She tries to dress me too."

"How very reassuring." The king sneered.

"Just for now." Neal laughed. "To wear for a short while, until I buy you a couple things that fit."

"Things like this?"

"Or whatever you like, Thranduil." She said, grabbing the coffee pot and pouring out the last of it into another mug.

"How much of that have you had?" Thomas asked.

"Not much."

"How much has she had?" He asked again turning to Thranduil, who's lips turned up in amusement.

"Several."

"Neal, you're gonna have a heart attack!"

"There are too many people in my house!" She shouted, grabbing the coffee and locking the door. "Why are you here, Thomas?"

"Clothes."

"Clothes and…?"

"To make sure you're not dead." He added, ignoring Thranduil's derisive scoff.

"Quite alive, as you can see." He said, shifting through the shirt and settling for the thermal.

"Anything else? Aren't you supposed to be working on …you know, figuring out, how to get the Good King Wenceslas home?" Thomas nodded, taking another sip of water before dumping the rest down the sink.

"Yeah, I called a friend, left a message. A vague message, relax. He'll call me back. He's a physicist or whatever. He'll call me back, I don't know he's kind of off."

"Great." Neal said poking her head into the dryer and pulling out a towel. "What else?"

"What makes you think there's something else?" Thomas asked innocently.

"Because you're doing that neck scratch thing you do when you're irritated or nervous. You look like you have poison oak."

"Very flattering." Thomas said. "Yeah, well it's about him." Thranduil raised a brow.

"Oh, should I give you two a private moment while discussing me or should I simply feign ignorance?"

"Feign away." Neal said with a dismissive wave of her hand and turned back to Thomas, tossing the towel over her shoulder.

"Well, turns out Garrett loved the idea of Will Green Tour Guide to the secret world of Elves that he wants to hire him. Now. Today."

"He wants to hire Thranduil…also that's not what we're calling it." Neal said, chewing her bottom lip. "That's a marketing disaster. Seriously, don't let Garrett call it that."

"Neal, listen to me. You're not understanding. He wants pictures, marketed plastered everywhere. You should have said he was an intern or something."

"Look at him, does he look like an intern?"

"Should I be flattered." Thranduil asked. Neal rolled her eyes.

"Well it's not like he's going to be here long." She argued. "What's the big deal Thomas? If it's fine with him, then he'll act like the pompous King we know him to be and when we send him back to Never Never Land I'll tell Garrett…I'll tell him I denied his advances and he was so heartbroken he left."

"Should I still be feigning ignorance?"

"No, feel free to voice your protest." Quipped Thomas, running a hand down his face in frustration. "Neal, you don't get it. Pictures, he wants pictures. Pictures that will look wildly similar to the photos you submitted in your police report."

"Oh…Neal whispered sitting down on the couch. "Oh shit…"

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**A/N: Annnd that's all folks. Did you like it, love it? Want more? Review and let your voice be heard lol.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey, I'm really sorry this has taken so long to update, this semester is really tough and full disclosure updates will probably continue to be infrequent despite my best efforts (although hopefully will be a little sooner). But, just know that i haven't abandoned it and however long it takes me, there will be an update!**

**That being said, wow, thank you so much for all the love since my last update! It's been encouraging to see the follows and favorites and nice comments, so thank you all so much! Glad you're liking it! I've also started posting my stuff on Wattpad (trying to figure it out lol) so if you're over there feel free to follow me there too!**

**Thank you to Kamaris, guest, myystarlight, Niloreads,Kelwtim2spar, Tibblets, leward1992, totomax, and Camelotgirl17 for the reviews!**

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"Right…yes, I understand that Garrett, but we can't sign any contract if you're having his face plastered all over the country." Neal argued, as she paced back and forth around her living room. "He's just not comfortable with that, you understand?"

She rolled her eyes as Garrett laughed at her protestation, and turned her back on Thomas and Thranduil who watched her try and navigate this situation.

"He'll be employed. He's not comfortable with getting paid, Neal? That doesn't sound like any guy I know/" Garrett said from the other end of the phone.

"No…he's about the art. One of those types, you know, and he is really not cool having his face photographed and sent out everywhere."

"You said he was a model?"

"Yes…but just, like, from the neck down." She stammered, giving an exaggerated shrug to Thomas as he snorted giving the Elf a side-eyed glance. Garrett made an uncomfortable sound, and she could hear papers rustling on the other end.

"Uh-huh…where did you find this guy again, Neal?" Garrett asked.

"Whole Foods."

"You found an actor model type at whole foods who has no interest in being photographed or prospering in his career at all?" He asked suspiciously. "You two sleeping together?"

"What?! No! Absolutely not. No." She shouted, ducking into her office and shutting the door more firmly than she intended to. She could feel her face burning as Garrett continued.

"But he wants to?"

"No, believe me, he does not want that." Neal protested peering out the glass doors at the Elf in her living room. Where Elves even interested in that kind of thing? _Well…he looks like he'd be very good at it…No!_ She shook her head in disgust, shaking the image out of her mind. _He locked you in a cell, Neal!_ "No. Definitely not."

"You sure about that? Cus I can't imagine why some guy would hang around doing this crap for free if he wasn't getting something out of it."

"Garrett, this is very inappr-"

"Unless you're doing this to make ole Thomas there jealous." He asked, and Neal could practically hear the sly grin on his face. "Nothing spurs a man to action like someone sniffing around what's his." Neal ground her teeth in frustration.

"Thomas and I are not together, Garrett, haven't been for a long time." She said irritably. "And I don't think I really need to tell you who I am or who I'm not sleeping with. But, for the record, I'm not." Garrett chuckled, and Neal plopped down into the chair letting the wheels slide backwards, knowing that he'd succeeded in getting a rise out of her.

"I'll tell you what Neal. Why don't you and this unphotographable model come meet me for dinner. We can hash out the finer points of Mr. Green coming to work for me. Should our boy decide to make a move you can thank me for that too. I'll make you a reservation, have my assistant send you the details."

"Well that's really nice of you Garrett, but I don't think-"

"Wear something nice. Frasca's sound good?"

"Sure, Garrett. Have her send me the info."

"How are you doing on those paintings by the way? I know you're busy but I hired you for the paintings too. Haven't seen any new work up lately."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I had something personal come up so I'm working from home today. I'll be doing some painting tomorrow. Oh, by the way, the Hamilton's want a tour before they confirm yes or no to the Opening, to see if it's worth being a benefactor." She heard Garrett swear before begrudgingly agreeing, and Neal made a sticky note to confirm and hung up the phone, eager to be off the line. "Blech." She said, pretending to vomit.

Neal sank back, biting her thumb in frustration. Now what did she do? She had tried her best to avoid this whole thing but now Garrett was hell bent on getting "Will" to work for him and Neal could not for the life of her could not figure out why he cared that much, maybe he really just liked the idea.

But then to suggest that she and him were…Neal let out a groan, grabbing her face as if she could force back the blush that was starting to warm its way up her face once again.

"Obviously we're not." She muttered to herself as she grabbed another sticky note, scribbling about dinner and irritably smacked it onto her calendar, moving a few other notes around to accommodate the change in schedule. _Of course, it might be better if Garrett did think that, _she thought, turning to peer through the glass door at Thranduil and Thomas, talking about God knew what. It might be easier to explain the Elf's absence, once they realized how to get him back home, if everyone assumed he wasn't around because Neal and him had broken up.

She snorted loudly, shoving the idea out of her mind. _Not in a million years_, she thought to herself. Sure, he was hot, she'd give him that, and perhaps he was funny in his world, but he also locked her in a dungeon to die. That kind of thing didn't really get a girl swooning, or at least not her.

No, she would go back to the drawing board, reformulate. But first, Thranduil was going to need something dinner worthy, something that said he was doing well for himself, he didn't need Garrett's money, and wouldn't eagerly accept whatever offer he tossed his way. Thomas's clothes said none of that.

"No, you just turn it on with the remote."

"Yes, you said that. It will not do me any good to keep repeating it." Thranduil replied, pointing the remote at the TV.

"No, press the power button. The red one."

"I did that, nothing happened."

"Because you turned it off again, just press it once."

"This is entertainment to you?"

"It is when you follow simple instructions." Thomas said under his breath, letting out a sigh and showing the Elf once more how to work the Television. Thranduil appeared startled for a moment as the program erupted into a raucous laugh track, and Thomas quickly turned down the volume, sending a sheepish grin to the King. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. I guess all this is pretty unnerving if you're not used to it."

"I was not startled. I'm simply amazed by the volume everything in this world seems set too. I should wonder if you can hear anything at all." Thranduil insisted, his face returning to usual impassive expression. "But yes, it is…different. Explain this to me?"

"The Television? So like I said before it just plays movies, or TV shows. It's like a play, but you can watch it whenever you want. There's a lot of different shows or movies, too many if you ask me but something for everyone I guess." Thomas flipped through the channel's, pausing briefly when he passed Sex and The City, rolling his eyes. "Neal loves this freaking show. Drives me nuts."

"She enjoys this? Why?"

"Because it's funny." She piped up, laughing to herself when Miranda realized her nanny got rid of a very special item in her side table.

"Funny is subjective."

"I'm inclined to agree." Thranduil answered, though the small smile on his lips made Neal's eyes narrow.

"Too many people in my house." Neal muttered, grabbing her cell phone. "Don't you have interns to boss around? Groundbreaking discoveries to make?"

"You can just ask me to leave, Neal." Thomas said flipping off the television. "How did it go with Garrett?"

"Not well. He's invited Will and I to dinner tonight so that he can woo him into employment."

"How very generous." Thranduil mused, grabbing the remote again sending a triumphant smirk to Thomas when he managed to turn it on.

"But you're not going, right? I mean you can't."

"Why can't we?" Neal asked, checking the time on her phone. "It's fine, Thomas, it's dinner, for which we need to buy you clothes." Neal added, pointing to Thranduil.

"Well I'm glad you have it all figured out, Neal." Thomas muttered, fishing his keys out of his pocket . "I need to go to work."

"Are you seriously angry?" Neal asked incredulously.

"No, I'm not. Really, I'm not. I just don't love that idea, the less time Garrett and Thranduil interact the better, in my opinion." He added, flipping open his phone and frowning and the message on the screen. "I got to go. Look, call me later, let me know how it goes. Don't do anything crazy, ok?" Neal nodded, walking him to the door.

"Like what? Let a fictional character stay in my home?Thanks for the clothes, by the way. He appreciates it, I'm sure." She said as Thomas gave a disbelieving grunt.

"Yeah, sure he does." His eyes flitted over hers, smiling a bit at her unkempt hair. Neal was rarely so disheveled, except in the mornings, and Thomas secretly always loved seeing her that way. "You should wear your hair like that to dinner, you know. I like it."

"Shut up," she laughed, pretending to push him out the door. "Go, work. Discover! Solve the mystery that is our Elvish visitor."

"I'll try my best." He laughed, knocking his fingers against the door as he walked out. "Lock your freaking door, Neal.."

Neal rolled her eyes, heading back into her living room to see Thranduil flipping through the channels.

"This is entertainment? Truly?" He asked, frowning as he stopped on a reality show.

"Well, no, not _that_." Neal laughed. "But sometimes, you just want to watch a movie in your pj's and just chil, you know?"

"No, I do not know." He said simply, cutting off the television with an exaggerated push of the button. "How much longer must I endure this?"

"However long it takes, Thranduil." Neal said with a shrug. "Trust me, this is no picnic for me either, ok? The faster we get you home, the better for both of us."

"I could not agree more."

"Great. All in favor." Neal quipped, shifting through the clothes and tossing the green shirt and a pair of jeans to the Elf. "This should fit, if it doesn't we'll pick you up some more clothes at the mall."

"You expect me to wear this?" He asked, finding it impossible that this woman would find his clothing unsuitable.

"Just for now, but yes. I need to find you something nice to wear for dinner, and maybe a couple shirts and pants, and other things to tide you over for now." Thranduil sniffed, rubbing the fabric of the man's t-shirt between his fingers, it felt rough and the fraying bits at the end of one sleeve did nothing to impress him. Then again, Thomas did not strike Thranduil as someone who much cared for those sorts of things. He cared for Neal though, of that he was certain.

What exactly was the nature of their relationship, he wondered. He seemed quite comfortable in her home and she had no objections. She lied about them being married and yet denied them being a pair at all to Garret while she was on the phone. Not that it should matter to him of course, he was unconcerned about the romantic dalliances of two humans, especially now.

"Am I to assume I will be here for quite some time then, if you feel it necessary to offer me clothing." Thranduil asked after several moments, his face unreadable and for the first time Neal felt a stab of pity. She shrugged, running a hand through her hair as she tried to think of an acceptable answer but the truth was, she had none, not really.

"Honestly? I don't know." She said with a sigh. "I hope not, and I mean that in the nicest way, not just because I want you gone. But to be quite honest we need to figure out how you got here in the first place, and if that cavern doesn't hold up we won't be able to get you back through there at all. So...yes, I guess for the time being...you could be here for a bit."

"I see."

"But we will get you home ok. You will go back." She insisted. "I went back, you can too." Thranduil said nothing, merely raising an eyebrow at the woman. Why did it bother him so much that she was concerned by this?

"When would you like to leave?" He asked, changing the subject, promptly.

"Why? You got a Soap to catch?" Neal teased, and the Elf rolled his eyes, though secretly gratefully she caught on and allowed them to move on from the previous topic. "I don't know, I need to shower and get ready so about an hour for me? What about you, would you like a shower?"

"A what?"

"Oh, um, to bathe? To get clean."

"Do I appear incredibly soiled to you?" He asked as she blinked in surprise.

"Well, no...I didn't mean any offense I just assumed you." Thranduil's mouth curved up into a smirk, leaning forward slightly as if to whisper a secret.

"It was a joke, Neal."

"Oh, you are funny. Funny, funny, Elf. And for the record, you do look dirty. You absolutely need a shower and you kind of stink."

"You lie."

"I don't, you can't smell your own stink."

"So I assume you are unaware of the effect your coffee has on your breath."

"Yeah, I'm ready for you to go home." She said, turning and heading up the stairs as Thranduil let out a laugh. "Why must you mock me?"

"You make it very easy." He replied, staring up at her from the stairs.

"Yeah, well we'll see who gets the last laugh, buddy. We'll see. Follow me." Neal said with a wave, leading him to the guest bathroom where she had tried to explain how the shower worked. "So, here's a towel and I'll put those clothes in your room, or leave them here whatever you prefer. And uh, you know, call me if you need anything. I'll be in my shower so, obviously not until after. Unless it's an emergency. Are you going to be ok?"

"I believe I can manage." Thranduil replied, eyeballing the small shower space in disappointment.

"I suppose it's not really what you're used to." Neal said. "From what I remember the bathrooms were a little nicer at your place."

Thranduil said nothing, nodding as he picked up the bottle of shower gel.

"For men?" He asked with a raise of his brow.

"Yeah, Spring Fresh."

"Does Thomas enjoy this scent?" He asked. Neal rolled her eyes.

"It's not for Thomas," _not completely, anyway. _"My brother stays here sometimes when he drops off my niece."

"Ah, I see." He said, setting the bottle back down against the side. "I did not know you had a brother. I apologize."

"A real apology, from the Elf King himself, I am shocked."

"Do not expect it to be a common occurrence." He sniffed. Neal smiled a bit, for whatever reason.

"I have two brothers actually, my foster brothers." She explained, setting the clothing on top of the sink and grabbing a few towels out of the linen closet. "They aren't my biological brothers. I grew up with another family. Been with them since I was twelve. They're good guys, Devon...he's a little lost right now but Michael's doing great."

"Why did you not grow up with your family?" he asked, genuinely curious. Neal bit her cheek setting down the towels and a plain bar of Dove soap as she decided how much she really wanted to divulge.

"Well, um, my mom wasn't exactly in a good place to take care of me and so it was decided that I would be relocated. I was set up with a foster family, and got lucky enough to have a good one. I have been with them ever since."

"I see." he said. A million more questions seemed to bubble it's way upward, collecting in his mouth but he clamped his lips shut firmly, sensing it was a sensitive subject. Still, it was an unheard of situation for him. Perhaps if he spent more time with the woman she would feel comfortable telling him more. Not that he should care.

"Yeah, so you're all set."

"Thank you." He said and Neal gasped in mock surprise.

"An apology _and_ a thank you? My my, this world has done wonders for demeanour."

"But nothing for the growing headache." He quipped, shutting the door as Neal laughed, stepping out.

* * *

Hours later and one high stress shopping trip later and Neal stood in front of her mirror applying the last few coats of mascara to her lashes. They'd have to leave for dinner shortly and Neal had spent the day, gathering clothing for Thranduil and prepping him on what exactly to say to Garrett during dinner. She seemed satisfied that he understood how important it was that he turned down that job offer, even if he seemed a bit off today.

Neal's reflection frowned back at her as she grabbed some lipstick, applying it with steady concentration. How could she say if the Elf seemed "off", she hardly knew him! And what she did know of him was that he seemed altogether arrogant, self-righteous and aloof. The new teasing that she had seen of him during the day had been just that, new. And what did she know? Maybe that was a fluke; a stress reaction to the situation he was in. Maybe he really just was an ass.

_Of course he is, Neal, why are you even thinking about this? Thomas is right, if he wasn't hot you wouldn't have thought twice about calling the police._

Neal scoffed, irritated with herself now and tossed the lipstick tube back into the drawer, moving to her closet to grab her dress. Something simple, she decided, nothing fancy, it was a business dinner after all. Quickly she grabbed a dark green shift dress, slipping into the black heels. Satisfied she nodded to herself, knocking on Thranduil's door.

"We need to leave. You ok?" She shouted from outside just as he opened the door, eyebrows raised.

"Quite alright, as you can see." Neal took a step back, quite happy with the way the dress slacks and charcoal grey button down seemed to fit him. "Do I impress you?" He asked with a smirk. Neal snorted.

"Oh please, I impress myself. I picked it out. Just one thing though." she said reaching her hand up to unbutton the top button. Her fingers hovered over the top of his shirt, waiting for his nod of permission. Slowly she slipped the buttons through, exposing a bit more of his neck, and suddenly imaginings of her failed pseudo-seduction flashed in her mind and Neal could feel her face burn with embarrassment. "There, now you look like the actor model type who shops at Whole Foods." She said teasingly, patting his chest and taking a step back.

"Yes, Will Green." He said, fighting back another roll of his eyes. He had to admit, the outfit she had chosen for herself was rather becoming on her, and far less revealing than the black little number he first met her in. "Shall we go?"

"Eager, are we?"

"Hungry is more like it." He said, heading down the stairs.

"Well hopefully you like what they have. If not, and you're still hungry let me know, i'll get you something else on the way home." She said, noting how he once again bristled. "Or not. Just a thought." Thranduil turned, staring up at her from the bottom of the staircase.

"It was a considerate offer, Neal. Thank you." He said stiffly, looking up at her with his arms crossed behind his back. For a moment she thought to tease him, to change this weird stoicism but something stopped her.

"Ok, what's wrong?" She said suddenly, her position on the stairs putting her directly at eye level with him.

"What is wrong?" He repeated, blinking at her in surprise. "I am merely thanking you for the hospitality, and your response is what is wrong?"

"Yeah, because you're being weird. You don't have to thank me like that, all formal like that. It's not a peace treaty, it's food."

"It is not simply food, but clothing, and housing. Should I not thank you?"

"No, not when you're being weird."

"You are an impossible woman, I hope Thomas knows this." He scoffed, stepping down the stairs and to the front door.

"Believe me, he knows." She grumbled grabbing the keys and heading to the front door where he waited for her. Neal stopped, keys jangling in her hands before she turned to him. "Look...I know we're not the best of friends...not any type of friends really, but, you don't have to feel bad about all this. I'm not doing it to show you up or anything."

"To show me up?" He repeated, stepping back and regarding her humorously.

"Yes, because I'm being nice to you while you're stuck here and you were kind of an ass to me. You don't need to feel bad."

"Oh, is that how I'm feeling? My, my, well. Thank you for clearly that up for me, Neal Carter. Your character assessment skills are truly astounding." Neal sniffed locking the door behind her as they stepped out to the car.

"You could have just said I was wrong." She retorted, unlocking the car. "Or hey, thanks for the concern about my feelings, but that isn't it, try again."

"Duly noted." The King replied, buckling himself into the car with ease now.

"Great. Awesome. Gonna be a fun night."

Thranduil said nothing, simply staring ahead and grasping to the side of the car as she pulled out of the driveway. In truth...the woman was not exactly wrong. He was beginning to feel a bit guilty, which more or less was the true cause of his irritation. The way he had treated her...well, he would have treated anyone thief that way. But she wasn't a thief, a liar perhaps, but not a thief.

In the course of one day she had provided him food, clothing, housing, and an opportunity to bathe all with relatively little complaint. She and Thomas were even, actively trying to find a way home. She had been in his world for a little over three weeks and Tauriel had to bring it to his attention that she had been suffering at all. Even after it had been clear she was no thief he had only barely provided her the basic amenities. The stark contrast in how he was welcomed into her home and her treatment were not lost on him, nor was it lost on Thomas, who never failed to mention it.

Even worse, the reason she was in the position with her employer in the first place was because she had been so frightened she had gone to her authorities and described his likeness to them. It was his likeness in her mind that frightened her so, that upset him. He couldn't have known of course, he could make all the excuses he wanted but he had acted rashly with the woman. He let his anger drive his actions, not for the first time, and that was inexcusable.

The drive to the restaurant was tense, the two of them not speaking to one another the entire drive and when Neal pulled into the parking lot she had every intention of turning and walking into the restaurant without a word. She reached for the keys, turning off the car so she could do just that when Thranduil reached for her hand, grasping it in his. The contact sent shockwaves down her arm as she turned to look at him, his face only slightly obscured in the darkness, but nothing could hide those eyes. Eyes that stared at her now, imploringly as he held her hands in his.

"Neal, in all sincerity...I do thank you. You have been most kind to one who has not been deserving of it. I thank you and I hope that I might, in some small way, repay you." He said quietly, his eyes still holding onto her's and it was all she could do to remind herself to breathe. After a moment Neal finally regained control of herself and quickly she reached for the car keys, shutting the engine off and clearing her throat in finality.

"Well, uh, just make sure I don't lose my job tonight. You can repay me that way." She said, avoiding eye contact as she fidgeted with the folds of her dress.

"I will endeavor to try." He remarked, following her through the glass door's of the restaurant.

"Here we go." Neal breathed, smoothing her dress and striding forward to their reserved table. "Time to impress, Will Green, just not too much."

* * *

**I swear I will try and update sooner I really will this time. Also sorry I left it on a cliffhanger kind of, i'm still working on this next scene but wanted to get something up for you guys since it had been so long since the last update. Anyway, hope you liked it and let me know what you think!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hello! Sorry once again for the long update! I've been pretty busy with school (still am) and updating the sequel of my other story ( which is up now btw! Called Do No Harm) but now we are back baby! Thank you all for your patience and for following along with this story! I'm ready to dive more into Neal and Thranduil ...which I did not realize rhymed until now...so that's a bonus!**

**Thank you so much to pineapple-pancake, Bodo, Niloreads, Eryn Aear, d'elfe, mystarlight, leward1992, earthdragon, camelotgirl17. Seriously I love reviews and I'm happy you all are enjoying this!**

Neal tilted her head back, draining the glass of wine as Thranduil laughed along with Garrett. She stared at the empty glass in disappointment, only half listening to the conversation and wishing Thranduil could drive so she'd be able to drink more. Anything to make the evening more bearable.

"No, really, we should play a round, if you're interested." Garrett said, slapping '_Will'_ on the back. "You play? Of course you play, look at you."

"No, I have not had the pleasure of playing golf." Thranduil replied, his voice as pleasing and liquid as a cool river on a hot summer day and Neal couldn't help but marvel at his ability to navigate the conversation. From the moment they had sat down at the table Thranduil had been congenial, and pleasant and dare she say even charming. She had to admit she thought he'd have a more difficult time adjusting. The people, the lights, the music...but he took it all in stride, flashing a charming smile to the waitress that openly ogled him and laughing politely at Garrett's more colorful jokes.

_Where the heck was this guy when I met him?!_ Neal thought, shoving a forkful of salad in her mouth. If she were being honest, it miffed her that Thranduil and Garrett were getting along so well. Her and the elven king were not friends by any stretch of the imagination but she had thought she knew him well enough to know that they were on the same page regarding her boss.

But as she smiled and nodded along, listening to Garret retell Thranduil the story of how he'd saved their little venture, she realized it was quite possible she was wrong. _Doesn't really matter, Neal. The goal is to get this King back to his world and keep his face out of any media outlet. That's it. _

"What do you think, Neal?" Garrett asked, his dark eyes glancing over at her in amusement. She blinked a few times, scrambling for a neutral answer and then smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that." She replied, forcing herself back to focus. Garrett laughed and nudged Thranduil with his elbow.

"Hey, guy, might have to stop inviting you out. Can't get my best girl to focus when you're around." He teased, ignorant to the sound of Neal's teeth grinding together. Thranduil, to his credit, refrained from commenting and Neal only gave a tight smile as she waited for the man to repeat the question. "I asked what you thought about doing a couple test shots this weekend?"

"Oh, well, I suppose it really just depends on how free Thra- Will is. But Garrett-"

"He's unemployed and looking for work, he's always free. Isn't that right, guy?" Garrett explained with a wave of his hand. Thranduil's lips thinned and he stared evenly at Garrett before answering with a cool smile.

"No, unfortunately Garrett, I am otherwise occupied this weekend." He replied, sending a look to Neal that was hard to misinterpret. She gave a small nod, but a part of her lightened, secretly pleased he wasn't enjoying himself. _Gah! What is wrong with me?_

"Well, there you have it. Besides, don't you have some meetings this weekend?" Neal asked, doing her part to steer the conversation away as she perused the wine list once more. A phone alarm chimed and Garrett pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, grinning as he looked at the caller idea.

"Yeah, a buyer. That's them right now, give me one moment would you folks? I'm gonna take this outside." He said, setting his napkin on the table and heading out the front door of the restaurant. Neal shrugged, sucking her teeth as she stared at the list, her heart set on another glass of cabernet.

"What did you order?" She asked the Elf, who had returned to his usual brusque demeanor. He looked down at the wine glass in contempt.

"Swill." He replied. Neal rolled her eyes, stifling a laugh.

"It can't be that bad. Garrett has pretty good taste in wine, I'll give him that much."

"See for yourself." Thranduil replied, pushing the glass toward Neal. "I am quite capable of choosing my own beverage. Also, is _guy_ a term of endearment here or has he simply forgotten my name?" Neal smiled as she tasted the wine, Thranduil was practically venting now.

"The first one." She said, letting the wine settle on her tongue before swallowing with a shrug. "It's not bad. Not amazing, but not swill."

"You are joking."

"No I'm not." She laughed, pushing the glass back to him, "Your kind of a snob you know that."

"Well if you enjoy it then help yourself." he said. Neal took the glass, taking another sip as she wiggled her eyebrows teasingly. Thranduil shook his head in disgust. "Neal Carter, you are without a doubt, the most bewildering woman I have ever met. And that is in no way meant to be complimentary." He added, returning to his meal.

"And yet I am choosing to take it as one. Here, I can't finish it, I need to drive." She said, looking toward the front of the restaurant where she could spot Garett, still on the phone, through the large glass windows. "Just swirl it around in your glass pretentiously, like you usually do."

"I beg your pardon?" He asked, lips curling up in amusement. "And do you mean to tell me that after two glasses of wine you are unable to drive?"

"No, I mean to tell you that after two glasses of wine I cannot have anymore to legally be able to drive." She replied, taking a sip of water and frowning at the lipstick stain she left along the glass, she hated that. "There is a limit to how much one is able to drink and then drive. Some people don't respect that legal limit and choose to drive while they are drunk and shouldn't. It's illegal, but it also gets people killed, or hurts someone else."

"I see," he said with a nod, understanding. "And how many glasses does it take you to become..._drunk?"_ he teased as Neal let out a laugh

"More than two."

"Three than?"

"I'm not telling."

"Oh please do, I am suddenly very interested." He said, sitting back in the chair, his arm slung around it. Neal shook her head, pulling her hair to one side.

"It's not nearly as interesting as you think. Trust me."

"No I suppose nothing could be more interesting than watching you toss wine and food about my study." He said, watching Neal raise her head haughtily and smiling in satisfaction as she did. It was becoming somewhat of a game he played with himself, watching to see how long it took to provoke that kind of defensive reaction from her, wondering if he could best the time it took with every interaction. It was becoming easier and easier the more time they spent together. She was fairly easy to read.

"Yes, and that was sober. Imagine the kind of damage I could do drunk." She said with a wink as she popped a roasted potato into her mouth.

"As long as you don't do it to my study."

"As long as you don't lock me in there." She retorted, noting how the corners of his mouth turned down in annoyance.

"Well, send me home as you've promised and neither one of us will have to be involuntarily detained again." He said, sitting up straighter as Garrett walked in, headed toward the pair.

"Hear, hear!" Neal chimed with a raise of her glass.

"Dinner is on me tonight, folks!" Garrett said with a laugh, settling himself into his chair. "I think i've found my highest bidder."

"Well congratulations," Neal said with a smile, "And just what is it you're selling?" Garrett pulled out his phone, showing Neal and Thranduil a statue of a woman. Neal didn't notice Thranduil stiffen as she took the phone from Garrett to get a better look, staring at the phone and then back at the man in disappointment.

"Oh, no! Garrett you can't sell her! Does Thomas know about this? He would never be ok with that." She protested. It was the same statue Thomas had shown her that day of the Gala. She didn't know why, but Neal had always really loved it...there was something about it. And yes, there was a time that she would have sold it, maybe, but that was before she had invested so much time and energy into the site. That was before she'd put so much thought into where that statue would go, wondering what her story was and how best she could paint that onto a canvas.

"Doesn't really matter if he's ok with it or not, does it darlin'? Because it's not his. I bought the site, means everything in it is mine to buy and sell at will." Garrett replied, his cavalier attitude further outraging Neal.

"Then why allow us to even put work into it! We've had so many people on the project, making sure everything that is found has been cared for. What was the point of all that if you're just going to cheapen the history of it by selling it to the highest bidder."

"The point is, that I have been feeding a lot more into this than I'm getting out of it. Now don't you worry your pretty little head, it'll still be there for as long as this site makes money as a museum but the second it stops being the cash cow I know it will be, i'll sell everything in there." He said, finger pointed at Neal as his face turned red. Neal gaped, shaking her head.

"Well then...I-I'll quit. I will quit." She said, handing him back the phone.

"No, you won't." He laughed, waving down the waitress. "Come on, how about dessert? My treat."

"I'm serious Garrett. If you move that statue even a foot off that site I will quit, and you will lose any and all of my business contacts. I'll make sure they never invest in this and they sure as hell won't buy a ticket for any grand opening, that is a promise. And once Thomas gets wind of this he will quit too , he and his whole team." Anger burned in the back of her throat at the idea that he could just sell all of those artifacts without so much as a second thought. She was also ashamed because at one point she had been just like him. But Neal was quite serious and as Garret set down the menu and stared at her evenly, he knew it too.

The table was silent and Garret leaned forward, fingers steepled as his snarl turned into a slow spreading smile and then an outright laugh. His face reddened and his hand slapped the table, the salt and pepper shaker vibrating from the force.

"Darlin, you sure do think a lot of yourself!" He laughed. "Fine. You wanna quit, go ahead! But don't think for one moment that Thomas will follow you right out of a job. No sweetheart, not this job. You ain't that pretty. But you go right ahead. A pleasure working with you and i'll be happy to write you a letter of recommendation."

Neal felt like she'd been slapped in the face. She wanted to scream! Flip the table over, and stab this loathsome man with her fork. But she didn't. She simply gave a curt nod and tossed her napkin onto the table, sliding her chair loudly across the floor as she stood, grabbing her purse.

Suddenly Thranduil's arm shot out, grabbing her wrist and anchoring her there. He didn't look at her but there was something in his change of demeanor now that reminded her of the day she met him. The way his head tilted to the side a bit, his dangerously calm air, the way the words he spoke flowed out of him like spun silk but their meaning as sharp as a blade. Something had definitely changed. Perhaps he'd had enough of Garrett too? He couldn't possibly be looking to defend her...could he?

"I assume you understand, should Neal Carter sever her ties with your enterprise, I will have no need to discuss anything further with you. Employment or otherwise." His words were soft and smooth, but Neal didn't miss the clipped way he ended his statement, like it was a swear word, or something more vile.

Garrett shifted his weight, his arm on the table and leaning on it as he watched 'Will' curiously. Neal scoffed to herself, wrenching her arm free and Thranduil let it go, as if he'd forgotten she was even there at all, so lost in the alpha male standoff as was. _If he doesn't care that I quit, and I actually work for him, why the hell would he care that_ you_ won't work for him? _ She thought, rolling her eyes and slinging her purse over her arm.

"Are you willing to talk about working for me?" Garrett asked with a smile. "Neal here seems to think you wouldn't be a very good fit."

"Neal Carter is free to make whatever assumptions she wishes, but you have the final say do you not?" Thranduil asked cooly. "However if you no longer have a need, then …"

"Sit." Garrett said as Neal fought to keep her mouth from falling open. Was she to understand that Thranduil was actually negotiating for this job? Garrett clenched and unclenched his fist before leaning back in his chair. "So, what, you come work for me and Neal keeps her job? That's what you want?"

"I come work for you and you stop selling off priceless heirlooms like they are mere trinkets you happened to find in your care." Thranduil countered. "Neal may do as she wishes, she is not my concern."

"Heirlooms you say? Interesting choice of words." Garrett replied, rubbing his jaw. The hair on the back of Neal's neck stood up...something was off about this, Thranduil had to know it too! Either he didn't notice or didn't care but it was clear to her that the Elf would refuse to back down until Garrett gave in.

"He can't work for you." Neal interjected, stuttering a bit as Thranduil shot her a deadly glare. "There's a bit of an issue with his work visa...it's why we can't have his face plastered everywhere. You understand of course. He's not going to be in town very long so it's not worth it to put in the money, time and effort."

"Well, that would be an inconvenience but nothing we can't work out…" he drawled out. "Of course we'll need to discuss compensation."

"I need no compensation, save your word that the items found will be treated with respect and care." Thranduil countered and now Neal was really steaming as she tapped her toe against the floor, jaw clenched so tightly she thought she'd break her teeth. Garrett barked out a mirthless laugh.

"Now I know you're not telling me you don't want any money! You're really pulling my leg, come on now, there must be something you need."

"Does it appear to you that I lack anything?" Thranduil asked, eyebrows raised as he leaned back. Neal had to admit, he was quite the sight, regal in his own way but it was a farce!

Thranduil might be a king in his world but he had nothing here! What the hell was he doing? He was ruining everything. All that time prepping for this, wasted. Hell Neal could have saved herself a couple hundred bucks and not bought him the clothes if she knew he was just gonna go rogue! What was wrong with him?!

"Of course he wants to be paid." Neal snapped, shoving her chair back under the table as she grabbed her wallet. "Everyone wants to be paid right? He just hasn't named his price yet."

"I should think I made my price quite clear. The statue remains where it was found, untouched and unsold, along with the others." Thranduil responded by not breaking eye contact with Garrett. Neal shook her head, a bitter laugh bubbling up as she threw cash down on the table, knowing it was more than enough to cover her and Thranduil's bill, along with a generous tip. She just wanted to get out of here and the idea of Garrett paying for her meal suddenly made her stomach churn. "However, as I said before, should you choose to sell the items and Neal Carter is forced to quit…"

"Right, back to Neal," Garrett said with a laugh, looking the woman up and down. "She must be a whole lotta fun for you and Thomas to be fallin' all over yourselves."

"I assure you Neal Carter and I maintain a platonic relationship." The Elf replied.

"Oh? That's why she's done so many pictures of you? Cus it's platonic?" Garrett countered. Neal's jaw did drop open now, outraged but she could barely squeak out a word before Thranduil responded.

"For my part. I cannot speak to her desires."

"Trust me, neither of you know anything about my desires." Neal responded, willing her voice to sound as cold and cruel as the humanoid Elf King that sat before her. "I'll be in the car." She muttered before grabbing her coat from the attendant and storming out the door.

The rain fell in a light mist now, barely more than a nuisance and her heels slapped against the concrete in heavy rage fueled steps as she strutted over to her car. She scowled, grabbing her keys and waiting for the car's horn to beep as she made her way to her vehicle. A vehicle where _he_ had only just apologized to her not more than an hour before. What had that been for? What was the point?

"Idiot," She scolded herself, swearing as she smacked the wheel to vent some of the anger and nearly jumping out of her skin as Thranduil opened the door and sat in the passenger's seat without so much as a glance in her direction. "What the _hell _was that?" she seethed.

"I will need to be there tomorrow at nine to discuss further details." he replied evenly. Neal turned in her seat staring at him, mouth agape.

"For your new job? Congratulations you just pimped yourself out to the devil!" She shouted putting the car in drive and heading home, she couldn't drive and scream at him like she wanted, not now. The car was silent the whole way home, with Neal stewing in the driver's seat and Thranduil seeming far too pleased with himself than he should be.

When they finally arrived home Neal slammed the door shut, not even waiting for the Elf to follow, he'd have to figure it out. _Especially since he's got his own special job now, putting him in absolute danger. And me too for that freaking matter!_ She kicked off her heels, letting them lie strewn about the floor and headed straight for the wine bottle on her counter, muttering to herself as she struggled to reach the wine glass at the top. Thranduil easily plucked the glass off the shelf from behind, handing it to her wordlessly.

"Oh, now you want to help me? Well isn't that nice." She bit back, screwing the wine opener into the cork.

"You are in no position to be upset. You got what you wanted and so did I."

"Oh please."

"It is a compromise," He explained, "in which both parties will find some part of the agreement less than ideal."

"Oh? So is your part of the agreement to be arrested? Cus that's what's gonna happen, buddy! You're going to be arrested for being a kidnapping, cult leader, _sadist_ and then you know what's gonna happen after that? They're gonna realize _'Oh, hey Bert, maybe something's not quite right here with this fellow.' 'Oh, yeah, you're right Ernie, you think he's an Elf? Let's ship him off to area 51 and figure it out._"

Thranduil raised an eyebrow as he watched her erratic behavior, her voice deepening to pantomime these Bert and Ernie characters, as she poured a generous helping of wine into her glass.

"Calm yourself." He ordered, not in the mood to endure her theatrics any longer.

"Calm myself? C-calm my- Are you insane? I mean do you have any idea what you've done? The danger you've put all of us in? And for what a statue? I don't understand, I thought we were on the same page about this? You weren't going to work for him and now you are because you wanted to protect a freaking statue?"

"It is more than a statue to me and you will have a care for how you speak to me!" Thranduil shot back, his own anger flaring as he leaned in, fists clenched at his sides.

"Oh like the necklace was more than a necklace to you?" Neal laughed bitterly, tipping her glass back as she sneered. "You really can't be that selfish...that materialistic can you? We had a deal, Thranduil! I help you and you help me, you just had to do as I said. You owe me that much!"

"I owe you nothing!" Thranduil snarled. He leaned in so closely she could feel his breath against her and while his lips were curled in disgust his eyes were cold and hard. He leaned further, placing his hands on either side of the counter so that she had nowhere else to look but at him "I am a King. Do not think for one moment, that should I deign to listen to your advice it is because you hold any sort of sway over my opinion. Your shrill bleating is just that. It holds no weight, no authority when levied against my own and mine is the only one that matters."

Neal's felt her lips quiver, barely perceptible to the average person and should anyone else be standing right infront of her they would have missed it, but not him...and in that moment regret flooded him with such a force he was nearly barreled over. It had been so long since he had felt such shame and yet every moment since he'd met this woman it seemed he was to drown in it. Before he could even begin to think how he might make amends for such a statement Neal tossed her head up.

"Well, _your majesty_, hate to break it to you but here you're just a regular old nobody like the rest of us. And you're sure as hell not my king." She said, slamming the glass against the counter as she moved to walk away. However, the glass shattered in her hand, the force of what she had done not tempered by common sense, for if she had been thinking clearly she would not have wasted a good wine glass and even better wine by hammering it against the counter in such a way.

The red wine spilled out, sloshing over her countertop as Neal swore once, and then once again at the sight of blood oozing out of her palm. Her mouth suddenly felt dry as the metallic scent of blood reached her nose and her stomach churned as she tried to make her way toward the sink.

"Stop, you have glass in your hand, Neal."

"Yeah, no shit, i'm gonna get it out." She shot back, holding her hand back to keep him away.

"You are going to faint."

"No, I'm not, I just don't like blood. Go away." She argued, embarrassed and angry and feeling very nauseous. Thranduil let out an exasperated sigh and grabbed her hand.

"You will need to get the glass out of your hand before you blast it with water." Thranduil replied, studying her hand and ignoring her attempts to free herself from his grasp. "It is not so bad."

"I know that." She shot back waspishly.

"Do you?" he asked, eyebrows raised as he regarded her, noting how pale she suddenly looked. "Because you look like you are about to become violently ill. So, allow me to help you."

"No thank you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I don't want your help." She protested, steadying herself against the counter as her legs threatened to give out. _Pull it together you big baby!_

"Either accept my help willingly now, or be forced to accept it after you've fainted. I am happy to wait for the later event to occur."

"Fine." Neal surrendered and grabbed the tweezers out of the medicine cabinet, tossing them petulantly on the counter. Thranduil merely raised a brow before grabbing them and determining their use.

Neal watched, lips pursed as he began taking out the small shards of glass out of her hands, turning away as blood started to bloom.

"Please refrain from vomiting until after I am finished." He said dryly, inspecting her hand once more. She scoffed, staring at him in amazement. One moment he was berating her and the next he was taking the time to look after her? What was wrong with him? There were so many facets to this man that Neal had already seen, few of which she even liked. Her shoulders heaved and suddenly she was so tired.

She was trying to do the right thing, to be a good person but perhaps Thomas was right...she didn't really owe it to him to be good. Thranduil paused, staring down at the lines criss crossed along her hand, and for a moment she wondered if he knew the thoughts that crossed her mind now, or if they really were displayed across her face so openly. And when he finally met her eyes, Neal knew he was sorry for what he had said...but she needed more than a remorseful glance. He gave a small curt nod, and quietly stated her hand was ready to be cleaned now.

"Why?" Neal breathed out as Thranduil blinked.

"Because it needs to be cleaned." He responded slowly. He knew enough about humans to understand this very minor injury couldn't have affected her that badly, but then again he'd never seen one so overcome by the sight of blood before.

"No, why did you do it." She repeated, frustration edging into her voice. "I asked one thing Thranduil. Just one, and that was to say no to Garrett. I said this was a bad idea, it was dangerous and that should the police see your face and find you...it would be very bad for both of us. You were on board, or so you seemed, and then all the sudden you were chatting up Garret like you were old pals and the next thing I know you're going after a job you should not have and telling you don't want money. So, I think that I deserve to know why and not be berated for it." Thranduil heaved a sigh, nodding slowly as he looked at their joint hands, and yet he did not let go.

"You are not wrong."

"Oh, I know i'm not wrong." She insisted. "You can't talk to me like that. I don't know if that's how you talk to people in your kingdom but i-"

"I do not. It isn't often I lose the reign of my temper."

"Really? Cus I sure have seen an awful lot of it." Neal replied, the anger she felt before dying out now.

"So it would seem," he said with a relenting sigh, finally dropping her hand. "You are correct...I should not speak to you in such a way. I understand you feel betrayed…but it was not over a trinket, or a simple statue."

"I guess it doesn't really matter now, does it?" She asked, running her hands under the water, hissing a bit at the sting and wishing she wasn't such a big baby when it came to her own pains. Anyone else's? Totally fine. Hers? Not so much. "You are the face of the project. Hopefully I can do enough to keep your actual face out of it. I doubt that now though, since you made me look like an idiot in front of my boss."

"He is a fool and when it comes to him it would be in your favor to be underestimated."

"Thanks for the advice." She snapped, shutting off the water and attempting to clean up the mess she had made. A heavy silence filled the room as he watched her clean the spilled wine and glass, oblivious to the war that waged on inside him. A physical grinding between his pride and an illogical desire to make her understand.

He was not in the habit of apologizing. It was not often that he needed to, or that he felt he had been so wrong that an apology was warranted. There were times, in his youth, where he would misstep, speak too rashly to a guard or courtier. And even a handful of times where he would need to rectify some wrongdoing when he had spoken harshly with his wife or son….but that was so long ago it seemed another lifetime, the memories distorted and rippled as if he were peering at them through the waters of the river.

But then he saw her face…carved out of stone but still just as precious to him as the day he had it made, and he was suddenly a desperate ellon, clutching at anything and everything that held her memory, the memory of his wife. But how could he say such things to this woman? A woman who was unnerving, similar in many ways to the one who held his heart...how could he explain such a thing, to make her understand?

"Neal," he started, the woman pausing her cleaning her glance up at him, her face impassive as she waited for him to say those words that were stuck to his tongue, that clung to his teeth, making them so difficult to force out and he could not understand why! He bent down to help clean up the glass shards if only to keep himself from having to look at her. "I should not have said those things. I was wrong. I am sorry." He said finally. Neal sat back on her heels as she stared at him, her expression weary and Thranduil realized that would not nearly be enough.

"Yeah, me too." She said with a sigh, running her uninjured hand through her hair and surveying the mess around her, wondering if this was what her life looked like to those who happened to stumble into it.

Thranduil, looked down at the glance in his hands, thinking it would hurt less to have them cut his own palm than to have that look directed at him. Neal was not one given to defeat, she was passionate, overexcited and prone to theatrics but earnest in her desire to speak the truth. Fire and ice at times...all those moods he's seen in her were to be expected, appreciated and even at times respected.

But it was her placid response, dull and devoid of emotion that wounded him so. They were not friends...no, in fact he doubted they ever could be but he did respect her now and he did so want to earn her respect too. Knowing that both irritated him and excited him… it was a vexing combination to be sure.

He slid down, back leaned against her cabinet and turned to face her, his hair hanging loose around him. He could feel the residual wine seeping into the leg of his trousers and yet he did not move, simply waited for her to meet his gaze. Actively she avoided it until finally she finished cleaning, frowning openly at the rather expensive pair of trousers now stained with red wine.

"I suppose you can pay me back for those with your next paycheck, if you're here to receive it." She quipped and the corners of his mouth curled into a lopsided smile. That was a start.

Neal sat too, leaning against the opposite side of the cabinets, stretching her legs out, not really caring how wrinkled her dress has now become. She was just tired. She hadn't really realized quite how tired but these last few days had been...challenging to say the least, drudging up a lot of emotions and thoughts that she hadn't really wanted to deal with for a long time. She felt his eyes on her still, waiting to explain himself but Neal wondered if there really was anything he could say to make it better. But of course, she realized suddenly...it was possible she was angry with him for more than a job offer. Perhaps she needed to forgive him for a lot more than that, she thought she had and she had apologized after all but...how does one apologize exactly for what had happened between them?

"Neal," he started as she forced herself to meet his gaze, to feel anything other than anger. A sad smile spread across his face. It was her ire that caused him to smile, something was better than nothing. But she was right...he did owe her, at the very least he could start with an explanation. "The statue...the one Garrett intends to sell, is one I had made. Commissioned for my wife."

Neal blinked, once. Twice. Once more before letting out a quiet "Oh," of understanding. _Of course he has a wife...that makes sense. Obviously he has a wife. _

"I, um, I did not realize you were married."

"I was."

"_Was_?"

"Yes." He said simply, schooling his features and waiting for a torrent of questions he wasn't sure he wanted to answer.

"I see," Neal said, nodding slowly. "And you made it for her to win her back I assume? As an apology."

"Of a sort," he answered. Yes, perhaps it was an apology...for not being there...for failing her. "She died." He said it quickly, his voice clipped and clinical, and Neal imagined it must have been like pulling off a bandage but she felt like she'd been punched in the stomach.

"Oh...God, I-i'm so sorry...I had no idea."

"I did not expect you to." He replied, running his finger along the edge of a shard of glass, one of many still cradled in his hands. "I have come to terms with it. Still, I was ...surprised to see her here, in this world."

"Why is she here?" Neal mused to herself._ This doesn't make any sense._ Thranduil sniffed, looking up now before staring down his nose at Neal.

"Why is she here? Why am I here? Why did I find you _there_? All questions I have asked myself, questions for which the answers have eluded me." He said, more to himself than anything.

Neal still struggled to wrap her head around the idea that he was married. When she had gone back to read the books she hadn't seen anything about him having a wife...and yet there was mention of a son. It took two to make a child, at least as Neal knew it...and she assumed Elves were the same.

"So that's why," Neal said, understanding now. "Why you agreed to take the job after he mentioned selling it...because that was your wife."

"Yes."

"She's beautiful."

"She was." He whispered in agreement. Neal didn't know what to say. She inhaled sharply, and a thought striking her and she looked up suddenly at a very different Elf.

"The necklace...you said it wasn't meant for me but I got it here...was that also your wife's?" She asked, thinking it was impossible, but it would make so much sense.

"Yes...it was made for her, though she was never able to wear it." He replied and Neal didn't press any further, not wanting to further delve into the details of his private life but suddenly things made a lot more sense. He wasn't selfish; he just cared about the things that had once belonged to his wife! He missed her. He loved her

Neal stood up, her bare feet padding across the floor as she raced to her office, grabbing her sketchbook and returning back to their shared spot on the Kitchen floor. She didn't have the heart to tell him Garett would never agree to let him have that statue for a few mere photos but perhaps he knew that already. Either way Neal flipped through the sketches until she found what she was looking for, carefully ripping out the sketch she had drawn of the woman, the Elf she realized, and handed it to him.

"I have more if you'd like...but this was the best." Neal explained a bit sheepishly as she watched his eyes scan the page, not one decipherable emotion visible to her. "I drew her a lot...I just...was curious I suppose." Thranduil said nothing for a long time and for a moment Neal wondered if she had overstepped, biting her lip when he finally met her eyes.

"Thank you." He said finally, his voice strangled with emotions he refused to give voice to. Neal smiled, grabbing her sketchbook.

"Of course." She stood to her feet, whispering goodnight as his eyes went back to the picture and slowly she made her way upstairs, settling in for the night.

The next morning she'd find Thranduil unmoved, seated in the same spot on her kitchen floor. He still gazed at the photo, willing the charcoal eyes to hold the same light they once did. He would have to close his heart once more to her, lest it consume him, he knew this. But, as Neal resumed her seat the next morning, clad in her night clothes with a fresh cup of coffee in her lap he felt a peace surround him, such peace he had not felt in quite some time.

He could hear the birds chirping, the sounds of this strange new world waking up as sunlight spilled in through the window, shining on last night's wine stained floor and he was thankful that the human woman did not break the revential silence, save for the sound of brewing coffee and her quiet appreciative sips. Slowly, agonizingly slow, he forced his mind to withdraw, to close the door on thoughts of his wife. She was gone. She would not come back. He could not allow himself to dwell on this.

And yet, as the two of them sat, he realized that this was the first time in many years he could allow himself to think of such things...hidden away in this foreign world away from the yearning eyes of his son, or the pitying glances of his subjects. Here he need not be so guarded. Gently he began to lower the paper, cradling it, torn edges and all in his hands.

"Take your time." She whispered, dipping her head to take another sip. Thranduil tore his eyes away from the page, settling them on the human woman in front of him, who stared out the window, smiling to herself as she drank her coffee. And suddenly he saw this woman very differently.

"Thank you." He whispered.

It was over now, the door was closed and he would right himself in a moment, but for now he was content to sit on the floor, awash in a peace he did not know he so desperately needed.

**A/N: Wow ok, a bit of a heavier chapter but I really hope it was worth the wait! I really wanted to convey just how important his wife was...we all know how deeply Elves love, but perhaps, just maybe he'll have room in his heart for one more.**

**Please let me know what you think, your reviews make me more happy than they should! Until next time! (Also, as ****always, I apologize if there are any errors.)**


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